Fireflies
by esmeeeeme
Summary: Owen Grady was the mother of the four smartest animals on the island. His influence, his mood, they all greatly affected his raptors. For their sake, he tried to keep his meltdowns in the bungalow. It didn't work. Owen/Barry, slow build, spin off of Owen Grady: Mother of Raptors.
1. The First Night

**So, I got some hella great feedback from the other one shot and with enough encouragement, I went on ahead and made this fic. I'm very happy with the success and the fact that people actually like my writing. So, more non binary and bisexual Owen Grady. Life is good. While I love Claire, I just felt that y'know, Owen and Barry would be pretty cute. And I'm always a slut for bisexual representation.**

 **Warning, the beginning of this has some strong post-traumatic stress disorder. Mentions of drowning and past combat. We don't get a lot about Owen's past, only that he was in the Navy and had been in combat before. I'm headcanoning it as we go, but I think I have a good enough grip on his character to know that he's seen some shit. His anxiety and trauma will be dealt with and explored as we go. And since we don't really know a lot about the girls aside from Blue, I added more to it. Please forgive my inaccuracies, but I tried. I obviously don't own Jurassic World. Enjoy!**

It was four years ago when he had seen his comrades die in the worst ways possible. He could do nothing to prevent it.

His head hurt and his heart couldn't stop racing. Like he were back in combat. Like he He felt like he was being choked; air escaping his lungs and not reaching his nose.

were back under the water. Falling, sinking, drowni-

With a startling gasp, Owen opened his eyes to see the faint blue hue of the outside light through his blinds. He panted for a few moments, his thoughts awry as he continued to get his breathing stable.

No.

He wasn't under water. He wasn't being strangled. He wasn't watching his comrades die.

His arms were dry. The covers were dry. He was on a bed, _his bed,_ he was on land. He was in his bungalow that he built from ground up and lived in safety, on Isla Nublar. His name was Owen Grady and he was safe.

Owen sighed, feeling his shoulders sag in sadness. Nightmares always left him shaken up, always draining him of his energy. It had been so long since he had dealt with one, but he had his fair share and they were never a nice thing to deal with.

Dressed in his old gray shirt and some workout sweats he no longer used for that intended purpose, he sat up and glanced at his alarm clock.

2:55 AM

 _Shit._

He couldn't go back to sleep, not this frazzled up anyways.

It wasn't a wise decision. But he took a deep breath and rubbed at his temples and stood up, finding his work shoes. He did the only thing that always managed to calm him down.

He went to visit his girls.

Owen just walked on the muddy cobblestone road, the route so familiar. Crickets and distant owls hooted through the night.

The paddock door could only be unlocked with a code or an ID. He was the main wrangler and he had the code memorized better than his social security number.

To his shock, the girls were wide awake, milling around the paddock. Blue noticed him first; she always did. With an excited chatter, she alerted her sisters that Owen, their mother, was here.

"Hey girls," Owen greeted.

A tiny flash of light landed on Charlie's nose.

If a velociraptor could frown, that's exactly what Charlie did. She shook her head, trying to get the bug off her nose. When the bug wouldn't move, she huffed. She looked to Owen, whining.

Jeez, these girls really were his kids.

"It's just a lightning bug, Charlie," Owen said.

He bent down and gently cupped his hand around Charlie's nose and felt the tiny bug crawl onto his palm. The bug walked around on his skin for a few seconds before lazily flying away…back onto Charlies nose. Charlie sneezed, wrinkling her nose and causing the bug to fly away.

Owen took a seat on the cement ground and sighed. His head still hurt. It always managed to do that whenever he had a bad moment. Like a nightmare.

He was in the Navy, and while technically he was a certified animal trainer, he had done and seen more than a fair share of combat before. Some fights that turned nasty, his comrades dying.

It brought a darkness and heaviness to his heart that drained him.

However, Owen wasn't left to his thoughts for too long. Delta bumped her nose into his knee to get his attention, distracting the trainer.

Out of the four, she used more body actions than her voice to catch his attention. At first, Owen feared she had vocal damage, but after a veterinarian visit, everything was okay with her vitals.

Owen studied animal behavior, and she had a case of anxiety. Like a dog being afraid of storms and loud noises, Delta was quieter and shyer, but she was getting there. She panicked whenever she was left alone or separated from her sisters, something that Owen had found out the nasty way when they had to get their individual checkups. The sound of Delta's crying and terrified shrieks haunted him for days.

She wasn't the youngest, but she surely was the most sensitive of the bunch.

But some habits, she never quite outgrew, like nuzzling Owen's hand when she wanted attention. Tugging onto his shoelace when she was scared was a big one that surged, especially when she was a baby and wanted to be picked up by her mother.

"What is it, Delta?" Owen asked.

A tiny whine came from her, followed by Blue's chatter.

He stood up and picked up Delta, the dinosaur burrowing into his arm. Blue led the way. Echo trotted by his ankle, Charlie following close behind. Normally Owen would be the one leading, but Blue understood when he carried one of her sisters that she was going to take the lead. It was a tactic that was established during hunts, in the case that one of the girls got injured, or in a very rare case, tired. But in the paddock, it was just because, and Owen made sure to share his affections, like carrying them, equally.

The sight that greeted him around the curve of the paddock was breathtaking.

Dozens and dozens of fireflies were flying lazily around the trees. Some were near the bottom of the plants; others were high above him in the branches.

There were so many.

Owen smiled.

On a log stump, Owen sat down and let Delta down, seeing her sniff around the air with the bugs around her.

"I used to catch these as a kid, back in Florida," he said. "They were so cute."

He didn't think a lot about his past before the Navy and before the raptors. It wasn't too pleasant to think about, save for a few bits and pieces of good times.

But one thing he remembered were the lightning bugs that always showed in late summer nights.

The four raptors watched the bugs with curiosity at the bright glowing lights. With a growing snarl, Blue was already bracing to pounce when a bug landed on Owen's arm. He motioned for them to stand down. He smiled and let out a laugh, a sound he made sure they associated at a small age for it to be positive.

"They're harmless little bugs, Blue. It's okay."

Blue watched him as he caught another bug and let it go.

"They're good."

For a good half hour, seeing the raptors milling around the ground with fireflies in the air made him calm down. Owen felt grounded again, and he let out a long sigh.

Delta and Echo cuddled

Blue settled around Owen's neck, with a low purr coming from her throat. Delta settled at his knees, Charlie already asleep next to his thigh. Echo was the smallest by a few inches, but she felt more secure sleeping on his lap. They had their own adorable arrangement to sleep. Sometimes, they would be sleeping in raptor puppy piles, as Barry called them, with one girl on top of the other. Other times, one in each corner of their quarters, with Blue keeping watch.

But when their alpha, aka Owen, was there, they felt the safest by sleeping on him.

Echo nuzzled herself further and Owen gently scratched the top of her head, feeling her breathing under his hand.

"Go to bed, kiddos."

Seeing that he wasn't going anywhere soon, Owen took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Focused on the wind around him and the four velociraptors on his body, he drifted off to sleep.

He woke up to the paddock door being open and Delta nudging his hand. Echo had scurried away and Charlie was chattering at the door.

Oh shit, he really did fall asleep.

"Owen?"

 _Shit._

Flight or fight.

Definitely flight.

Owen gulped, feeling the anxiety setting back into his veins at an alarming rate. His face was a bright flush red of embarrassment. He couldn't stutter out an excuse or even a lie about why he was in the raptor paddock in his pajamas before Barry just nodded and said "I will cover for you."

Too shocked to say anything coherent, Owen uttered a thank you and ran out the paddock.

Owen took a quick shower and got ready for the day, like the former night had never occurred.

For the rest of the morning, Owen avoided all kinds of contact with Barry and he continued to work with the raptors. Being a wrangler required a hundred percent clear mind and concentration to focus on the girls. His agitation was felt by them. His enthusiasm was felt by them.

His fear was felt by them. 

He was their mother. And the girls were the smartest animals on the island. They could smell fear, sense it, and his mood greatly affected the behavior of the raptors. They were smart social animals, but they were still young. Still _babies_.

They were smart, but they still relied on Owen. They were barely three months old.

So, as bitter and cynical as it sounded, he tried keeping his meltdowns _inside_ the bungalow.

At his afternoon break, Owen let the girls run loose in the paddock. The morning feeding went great, as did the morning run. He was still waiting for the later afternoon to come to take them to the restricted area to hunt. The park was currently closed for the humid spring season, since storms were a risk for the guests. The dinosaurs were going to be okay.

So this meant more leniency and more free time. Aka, spending time with his girls. And more restricted area hunting.

Fuck yeah.

But, until then, the girls were free to run around the paddock chasing each other. Owen would never get tired of the sight. Blue taking the lead, Echo chattering away, Delta and Charlie ganging up on Blue. Raptors the size of Chihuahuas chasing each other and being so damn happy, well, as happy as raptors can be.

Owen felt the smile grow on his face.

Behind him, footsteps were approaching.

Owen tightened the grip on the railing. He swallowed and tried to act casual. He tensed up, the same vulnerability from the nighttime returning.

"They are the world's most dangerous puppies."

Owen smiled a little bit. He let out a small laugh, but his grip not easing away from the railing.

"Yeah, those are my babies," he said.

He just...He loved these girls like they were his own. He was their mother, damn it.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Of sorts, yeah. I'm good enough."

He was so thankful that his partner knew how to read people. Barry nodded and no longer pressed on, to Owen's relief.

The two trainers looked out into the paddock in silence, watching the girls, blissfully unaware of just how bad things were gonna get.

 **Wow, aren't I cheesy? I have a whole lot for this fic written out and planned, its gonna get real good. Ahhh I'm so excited! But yes, thank you so much for reading. I hope you join me in the rest of this fanfic. Reviews are welcomed!**


	2. Delta

**I am back! Once again, headcanoning it as I go. But hey, enjoy!**

* * *

"Come on, D. You can do it."

The only noises she made were terrified squeaks. She ran on the table, her claws scratching at the smooth metal and back to Owen.

"It's okay, Delta, I'm right here," Owen soothed. "Just let the vets check on you."

"Will a blanket help her?" the vet, Kiana, asked. "Distracts her enough to let us check on her. We tried that with Echo the other time and she loved it."

"Echo loves anything and anyone."

Echo was the walking version of being a mischievous little shit. She was ansty, always more chaotic and ready to bounce.

Kiana smiled. "She does."

Blankets.

Holy shit, how did Owen not think of that?

"Wait." Owen unzipped his hoodie and wrapped it around Delta.

"Maybe since it has my scent, she might calm down."

"That's actually a really good idea."

"When I used to be an animal trainer in the navy, we would do that with puppies when they got scared."

Delta let out a small purr and closed her eyes, burrowing herself into Owen's hood.

"Now, let Kiara check on you," Owen said gently.

Delta reluctantly let Kiara lift her tiny arms and check their length.

Owen smiled. "That's my girl."

* * *

"Delta isn't making any progress with her vocal issues."

It frustrated Owen the fact that people didn't know when to stay in their lane.

"Hoskins, you need to back off."

"So you were saying, if Delta was born mute, you would've terminated her?"

"There isn't a point in displaying disabled dinosaurs."

"Has anyone told you how much of a massive prick you are?"

In faux surrender, Hoskins left the room.

"Owen, you need to calm down," Barry said.

"Don't tell me to calm down," Owen huffed angrily.

"O, take a breather."

Barry always did this. Not because Owen would lash out aggressively, but for the sake of Owen not hurting himself.

Whenever Owen got angry, his headaches popped up and tended to get worse with the amount of anger or frustration he had in him at the time. Barry didn't know the significant cause of why he had them, it wasn't his business. But what he did know was that Owen would hurt himself even more if he continued to get angry about something that wasn't his fault.

The calm to the storm.

Owen vented it out, left him a bit lightheaded. But whenever Barry was there, he would make sure Owen treated it, even if it was with a drink of water or an Advil.

Owen took a deep breath and rubbed at his temples.

"Thanks."

Barry nodded. "I know Hoskins always makes you mad."

"Normally, I can block him out but today, he went completely out of line! Saying to kill a disabled dinosaur. I'm just" Owen groaned. "InGen is BRINGING dinosaurs into this world. They're literally screwing nature and evolution sideways and playing God with test tubes. It's a damn given that not all of the dinosaurs will be in the best condition."

"What would have happened if Delta was born mute?" Barry asked. "What would you have done?"

"I would still love her and include her in the pack. Maybe teach her some gestures she can do with her arms or legs so she can communicate. Killing her would be just wrong."

Dinosaurs were not a product that once it was made in the factory and proven faulty to be thrown away. Especially when one was of a family unit. Velociraptors rely a lot on family and support. They're social animals. They're a goddamn pack.

"And she has sisters. They would feel the absence too hard if Delta was suddenly gone."

It was heartbreaking to think what would happen if Delta, or one of the raptors, were to die.

Already, Owen dreaded the day they were too big and heavy for him to carry. He loved his girls, considered them family. Loved carrying them and having them fall asleep over him. They were the world's most dangerous and _precious_ pack of genetically altered dinosaurs that acted like puppies.

Whenever one of the paddock employees was sick, it was mandatory for them to take the day off.

The rule had become more engraved into Owen's life a few weeks after the raptors were born.

One of the gentle giants had fallen ill when one of the handlers got the flu. Her name was Lady, one of the sweetest dinosaurs on the island. She was the first dinosaur Owen got to touch and even _feed_ the first day of him being on the island. She had a special place in his heart.

She didn't last the week.

Ever since Owen woke up to that email of Lady passing away over the night due to an illness, he was haunted by that ever happening to his raptors. He was barely a parent and the mere thought of one of his girls getting sick terrified him.

God no, he will not let his girls get sick.

Yeah, the raptor wranglers before him didn't last because they were cocky. Being a wrangler wasn't about control. Owen didn't control the raptors.

And it issed him off to no end that Hoskins still thought the same damn thing.

"Why can't Hoskins stay in his lane?" Owen asked. "The asshole just cares about money. They're capable of cutting off funds on a stable functioning dinosaur program like the raptors to try more bullshit like making a new fucking dinosaur." He sighed. "Give me a break."

"They didn't mention explicitly terminating the velociraptor program."

"Last time, I'm pretty sure they didn't explicitly say they were underpaying sanitary workers and charging even more on the ferry for employees to travel back to the mainland, but hey, who am I to bitch around and jump to conclusions? This park is running fine and dandy under InGen. Zero days without an accident. You'd think you'd leave behind corrupt greed in the US, but nope, once again, it's proven to be universal." Owen sighed. "God I hate people."

Barry offered Owen his water bottle and Owen graciously accepted it.

* * *

 **Yay for bonding. It is a bit of a short one, but it will get longer and better. Thank you for reading, reviews are always welcomed!**


	3. The Bell

**Warning for a rather graphic animal death. And yeah, things are gonna get dark. Not too dark, but still dark enough.**

* * *

Owen had his first brush with death when he was seven.

He lived alone with his mother, Lorraine. The home he lived in Florida was surrounded by all things green, _so green._ The coast was only two hours from his home and he could feel the morning humidity every time he woke up.

He was coming home from school. A regular day. As routine would have it, he would make himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and go with Max, his beautiful border collie.

He heard the tires of a car skid and a loud cry.

He dropped the jar of jelly on the floor, hearing it shatter behind him. He ran,

"Max!"

Owen had started running and

"Mom please! We need to take Max to the doctor!"

"He's already dead, Owen. This is all your fault!" his mother had yelled at him. "This is all your fault!"

There was so much blood.

Owen pleaded for Max, hearing his dog let out whines and crying in pain. Nevertheless, Max snuggled into Owen's arms. Owen couldn't stop sobbing on the curb, clutching Max close to him.

"I'm so sorry, Max, I'm so sorry," Owen sobbed. "I'm so sorry."

His white polo shirt and khaki shorts were stained with blood and mud, as were his arms. His dog's coat used to be light brown and white. Now...Just blood. Blood and mud everywhere.

Tears covered Owen's face and dripped down his chin.

It was only minutes but it had felt like long, agonizing hours.

"You're such a good dog, Max. You're such a good dog." And finally, Owen felt him stop breathing.

Owen didn't stop crying.

* * *

With a choked gasp, the raptor wrangler woke up.

Owen woke up weeping.

 _What the fuck._

It had been so long ago, but just, _what the fuck._

Grief weighed on his heart and the outright pain of the memory still stinging at him.

He felt like he was suffocating. Sobs escaping his throat, desperate for air. And the thought. His dog. _Max._

Finally, he came back to reality.

Through the coveted light green curtains, the darkness was growing fainter and fainter.

5 am.

He woke up two entire hours before his alarm clock.

Another nightmare, another memory.

Owen took a deep shaky breath, his palms sweaty.

He wasn't going back to sleep any time soon.

He waited for the tears to stop and with a deep breath, he pushed his hands onto the bed to sit up. Rubbing his eyes and wiping off the stray tears from his cheeks, he stood up and yanked off the bed cover and sweated through sheets and pillow. Might as well do something productive.

Trudging barefoot through his bungalow, he walked through the living room and corner of the kitchenette, where the washing machine was. He felt the familiar routine as he pressed buttons for cold wash. He dumped his navy blue sheets and matching cover into the machine, throwing a little soap baggie into the machine.

Rubbing his eyes, he made his way to the restroom to clean up. With exhaustion etched into his features, he washed his face and brushed his teeth. God, he hated looking into the mirror after shit like that. Hated seeing himself.

He resisted the urge to smack himself.

"Pull it together," he said, wincing as he heard the croak in his voice. Was he crying that badly in his sleep?

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, deciding to take a shower.

His family would never contact him again. They would never call him, email him, visit. It was in the past now.

It was only when he reached his wet hands to his face when he noticed the scratches.

Bright, ugly scratches. Some were small, others were long. It wasn't enough to draw blood, but it was close enough for them to stand out.

 _Fuck_.

He must've done that while he was asleep.

He let out a shaky breath and r

He stripped of his clothing like it was made of poison ivy and threw his sweaty pajamas into the dirty clothes hamper and stepped under the cold stream of the shower.

He felt the exhaustion and pain tug at every nerve end of his body. The fear he felt upon waking up was shocking, leaving his body in a numb,

He can make it another day.

Yeah.

He can make it another day.

He was drinking coffee and feeling much more better when he received a notification from his group chat he shared with Barry, Vivian and Lowery.

"Look! Cheddar has a bell!"

The video was about ten seconds long of her tabby cat walking around her apartment. And surely enough, he had a tiny bell on his collar that jingled every time he moved.

Lowery had replied with "At least you know where in the house he's planning murder by hearing it."

The bell.

 _Holy shit._

"Vivian, you are a genius."

"Uh, thank you?"

He downed the rest of his mug in one go and dialed Claire.

"I think I figured out a temporary fix for Delta," Owen said.

* * *

He was sure that this was the first time anyone in the gift shop was asked if they had a spare bell lying around from their Christmas collection. He was also pretty sure that they weren't asked if they had collars either.

Luckily, the cashier, Heidi, didn't ask too many questions.

"You got a cat now, Grady?"

"Something like that."

This wasn't a good idea, but he was going to do it anyway.

* * *

"You want to do _what?!"_

"You heard me."

"Do you have any idea what you're dealing with?" Claire asked. "These aren't cats. These are velociraptors."

"Uh, I'm the trainer here, so don't tell me how to do my job."

"I'm just...How is putting a _bell_ on Delta going to fix her vocal issues?"

"Until she can communicate, she can use a bell. You'll see what I mean. Can you come down to the paddock?"

"I have a routine check up with the gentle giants management."

"Cancel it. Or switch it around. I guarantee you, Delta will be using the bell effectively today."

A loud sigh came from the other end of the call. "If you say so," Claire said. "I will be at the paddock at three."

"Fantastic."

* * *

The hunt had gone well, instead of the usual goat, they went with a pig. The girls, as always, brought him back a piece. And Owen, as usual, gave it back to them.

But today was different.

Claire had arrived at three, like she had said.

"Owen, what happened?" Claire asked. She gestured to his arm.

Owen knew how to act nonchalant about it. He was still trying to act like everything was okay and that he didn't have a nightmare about one of his worst memories of his life. "Oh, that?" he asked. "Charlie. Little shit got stuck in a ravine earlier," Owen said. "Eh, they should fade later on. Nothing too bad."

Truth was that raptor claws could pierce skin if they were used hard enough. Owen has seen it when the girls caught a chicken during one hunt on moving targets. Brutal, absolute dangerous slaughter. Even when they were barely hatchlings, about three weeks old, the claws were sharp as tiny needles.

They would only get more sharper and dangerous when they grew older.

Owen had a good amount of scratches on his leg when Delta panicked and didn't know how to tug on his shoelace. Charlie was more into rough house playing with her sisters and sometimes Owen had to tug her away whenever she got too heated with Echo. It didn't help that Echo was literally on her way to becoming the pack fighter. At one point, Echo got sassy with him when he had to take her to the vet and left a rather prominent scratch on his hand.

Blue never scratched him, because as a beta, she knew what the fuck she was doing.

"Is Charlie always aggressive?" Claire asked.

"Keep in mind that these are fucking dinosaurs, so they are. Obviously. And well, Charlie is always a little shit, but she's a little shit with a cause. Did I ever tell you about the time she nearly bit Hoskins?"

"I don't think so."

"Oh man, it was beautiful. He tried to pet her and she snapped right at him! I never saw a grown man scream so much."

Claire smiled a little bit. "You were going to show me something?" she asked, getting back on subject.

"Oh yeah."

Owen whistled and called out Deltas name.

Delta trotted out, her tail waving in excitement like an overgrown puppy.

Until she saw Claire.

Delta backed away into a bush.

"Come on, Dee. It's okay. Claire is good."

No answer came from the raptor.

Owen sighed and walked to the bush, kneeling down and pushing aside some branches.

"Delta, it's okay." Owen considered his pride and knew the blow was coming. "M...Mommy is here."

It had been a while since he called himself that. It wasn't important. Mom, dad, whatever he was labelled, he was still their parent.

But it seemed to do the job. A small snout stuck out from the bushes.

"Atta girl, come on," Owen encouraged gently. "You can do it."

He let her walk out and her large eyes peered up at him, curious. It made his heart melt every time he saw their big eyes.

"Alright Dee," Owen continued kneeling. "Let's give this a try."

"I present to you, the Delta Bell."

"...What?" Claire asked.

"Since Delta can't communicate vocally, maybe with the bell, she can let her sisters know where she is. Teach her how to shake it about during hunts, so she can make noise."

"Is this going to work?"

"Most likely not, but it won't hurt to try!" Owen said cheerfully.

Delta stood there.

In confusion.

"Alright, let's try again."

Owen shook the bell around, the noise perking Delta's attention. He slid the collar around her neck.

"Good, good. Now, try shaking it."

The dinosaur continued staring at him.

And judging him.

"Fuck it."

The best way to describe what Owen was doing was of a father trying to get their daughter to eat baby food, only to finally taste it and realize it tasted like all the terrible things in the world mashed into a tiny jar.

Owen stuck through it, damn it, _he could do it._ Yes he looked like an idiot shaking his head around like a wet dog, only to make noise with the bell he held to his neck.

"This is embarrassing," Owen mumbled. "I'm gonna stop."

"No, no, by all means!" Claire exclaimed. "This is rather adorable."

"You're going to use this for blackmail."

"I would never!"

"Shake it, Dee."

Delta sniffed around her new collar, getting used to having it around her neck. She trotted, she ran, she went to her sisters and shook her bell.

Now, Owen was getting the hang of it.

He stood up, dusting dirt from his knee. This routine was more familiar. Whenever he taught the raptors a new command, he would gather them all in a circle.

He whistled to gather them together. Blue in the front, Charlie behind, Delta in the back with Echo.

With a grin, he focused his attention to the four raptors.

"Alright my beautiful girls, we're gonna do something new today."

* * *

The exercise had worked.

He taught the girls to listen for Delta's bell and respond with one of their calls or clicks. When Owen called Delta's name, a bell jingle would follow. Then came the trot of the tiny dinosaur coming back to the clearing.

It was some progress. Good progress.

Blue trotted to Owen and chattered for his attention. She already had her feeding, already had her hunt with her sisters. No risk of her trying to take a bite out of Claire. Echo and Charlie, maybe, but never his Blue.

"Hey girl," Owen smiled. "What's up?"

Blue looked at Owen then at Claire. Not a with a warning snarl like she gave to the other paddock crew, but just curiosity. She cocked her head, looking at Claire in confusion.

"That's Claire. She works with me. She's good," Owen said, concentrating with his beta.

"She's Blue, right?"

"Yeah, my beta."

"May I pet her?"

"Yeah, hold on," Owen said. Hopefully, she was in the mood to be petted. Blue was more particular when it came to affection. Without taking his eyes off Blue, Owen instructed Claire to hold out her hand a little bit and let Blue sniff it.

"Don't be scared," Owen reassured. "She's just curious."

Blue skittered back a few steps, alarmed. Often people forgot that raptors weren't born confident and ready to attack. Yes, Delta was shy, but Blue was _careful._

"Okay, steady, girl, steady," Owen said gently. He had his hand on his beta"s neck and rubbed his thumb on her pressure point that he always held or pet whenever Blue got nervous for whatever reason.

Owen reassured. "She won't harm ya. Just sniff it."

Owen had to give his boss some props for not freaking out as Blue leaned forward and let out a tentative sniff. Claire smiled a little bit, trying to contain her excitement, but Owen can read people. Claire was _ecstatic_.

The look of glee on her face made him almost forgive her for her desire of control.

...Just kidding, he would never.

Claire was so happy as Blue leaned forward to Claire's open hand and let her pet her head.

"See, she's good. Let her pet you, okay?" Owen clicked his tongue twice.

Blue clicked it back and leaned forward to let Claire gently pet her head.

"Oh my god," Claire whispered in amazement. "She's beautiful."

Blue purred in response, leaning more into the touch.

Claire laughed a little bit and grinned.

Blue was always called beautiful by the veterinarians when she was little and they still haven't stopped. Like Charlie also responds to Charizard, one of the many dumb nicknames Lowery called her when she was a baby, Delta responds also to Dee, and Echo sometimes responds to Gecko, but Blue _always_ responded beautiful. A term of endearment.

Owen let out a small laugh. "Ain't she?" he asked. "That's my girl."

It was going to be completely different when they were older, though. They were going to get more ferocious, more dangerous. It was a thought Owen tried to avoid at all costs, like the fact that he wasn't going to be able to carry them anymore at one point.

Blue tugged away from Claire's hand and Owen, seemingly having her fill of contact for the day.

Seeing Claire's startled face, Owen waved his hand at her.

"Don't take it personal. Blue is the less touchy one," Owen said.

"I just pet a velociraptor," Claire said in amazement. "An actual, real life, living velociraptor."

"Is this your first time petting a dinosaur?"

"...Yeah."

"Holy _shit!_ " Owen exclaimed. "You run a park of genetically engineered dinosaurs and you've never pet one until now?!"

"Keep in mind that I'm only present for hatchlings because of legal reasons, and since I run a park, it doesn't mean I have to be in it. The CEO of Six Flags doesn't get on rides just because he runs it."

"How the fuck does Six Flags have _anything_ to do with Jurassic World?" Owen asked. "The only thing we've got in common is $8 sodas."

Claire let out a small yelp as Echo tugged on the end of her skirt.

"Echo!" Owen yelled and clapped twice. "Back up! Back up now!"

Startled, Echo let go of Claire's skirt and growled at Owen.

"Don't give me that shit, Echo. _Back up_. You don't want me to punish you."

Echo ceased growling and instead, glowered her eyes at Owen instead. Trying to intimidate him. Little shit.

Jesus, these girls were competitive as fuck.

"I'm going to punish you."

Knowing that Echo wasn't going to bite him, because she had tried in the past plenty of times and he had the bite marks to prove it, he didn't let that go unacknowledged. Owen reached down and firmly tapped her snout twice. "Don't tug on people's skirts. That's rude," he said, stern. Echo continued glowering at him.

Owen would never punish them bad, though. They were animals from another freaking _eon,_ of course they wouldn't know any better. Especially ones that were barely four months old, like the raptors. The most he did was give a firm tap on their snouts and a scolding. Maybe two taps if what they did was bad enough. Echo got the most of the taps because she was the troublemaker. Charlie was just crazy.

"Understood?"

Echo growled.

" _Understood_?" Owen clicked his tongue again.

She did the equivalent of a velociraptor eye roll, but nevertheless, clicked her tongue twice. Their version of saying yes. Or telling him to go fuck himself.

Close enough.

Owen clicked his tongue twice and nodded, "Good. Go."

Echo trotted away, chattering with Charlie who chattered right back. Gossiping, probably. Or cursing at Owen.

Both. Probably both.

These girls were going to be the _end_ of them.

"They're reaching the teenage phase," Owen sighed. "It's not easy being a single parent of four dinosaurs. How's your skirt?" Owen asked Claire.

"Owen, that was _amazing._ "

A bit thrown off at her tone, Owen frowned. "And your skirt?" Owen tried again.

"Nothing a tailor can't fix," Claire shrugged. "That was _amazing._ You just controlled them."

Annnnnnnnnnd it's gone.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, stopping you _right_ there, Claire," Owen said. "It's not about control."

They've had this argument thousands of times. Control, control, control, money, _jesus_.

"What you just saw wasn't control. It was mutual respect and _communication._ Blue doesn't control the girls when I'm not around," Owen said. "She just keeps them in check. Sets an example for them to follow."

He would never forget the immortal words that stuck with him when he met Dr. Grant.

He was eleven, a foolish kid back then, yeah. That was a given. But the doctor had given him a scare and a reality check that have stuck with him for years. Velociraptors were not to be fucked with. They were to be respected, for a multitude of reasons. Animals obviously deserved all respect, but more importantly, they were the most intelligent animals on the island.

But of course, people didn't get it. Too used to the fact that humans are dominant, when dinosaurs used to rule the earth millions of years ago. They were back _because_ of humans.

Owen really hated people.

"Control, then."

"God, what is it with you higher ups and your hard ons for _control_?!" Owen exclaimed. "It isn't control. For the last twenty times, it is not control!"

"It sure sounds like control to me."

"This is why I never went on a second date with you."

Truth be told, Owen was attracted to Claire.

 _Was._

She was independent, hardworking, _gorgeous_. Bright blue eyes, red hair that matched her determination, she was beautiful. The moment Claire took the lead in the staff meeting and set things how they were meant to be, Owen was attracted to her.

But their date went _terribly_.

They were too different for each other. And while different was good, it wasn't good when the differences clashed to the point that a date was almost a bad idea as the guys who built the first park.

Yet they were still there, actually doing it.

Nevertheless, Owen and Claire remained friends. Owen figured out it was much better for them to be off as friends and Claire agreed. The first few days after the date was a bit awkward, but it was fine.

At that, Claire rolled her eyes and groaned. "You wore cargo shorts to our date!"

"We live on an island, it gets hot! What else am I supposed to wear?! A suit?!" Owen exclaimed. Before he forgot, he added, "And what kind of diet doesn't include tequila?"

It still baffled him that Claire declined a good round of shots because of her diet.

"A lot of them, actually. You wouldn't know!"

"Well excuuuuuuse me _princess_ for living life! As they say, Costa Rica pura vida."

"You're an ass." Owen grinned.

"You're not going to get girls by wearing cargo shorts all the time," Claire said.

"Why does everyone keep assuming I'm straight?!" Owen exclaimed. "It's seriously getting annoying."

Unfazed by the comment, Claire blinked, but still continued. "I'm sorry, let me correct myself," Claire apologized. "You're not going to get girls and guys or _anybody_ by wearing cargo shorts all the time."

"Apology accepted, but that's still rude. We live on an island, cargo shorts are the bomb. And comfortable. And to my knowledge, attractive."

Claire rolled her eyes, but still smiled a little bit. Their banter was for fun.

"You're a great person to have on board, Owen," she said, following him out of the paddock.

"I care about the animals," Owen said. "Hoskins…" he sighed. "Hoskins just sees them as profit. He doesn't understand. He will never understand just how much his negative goals can affect my girls. He needs to stay in his lane."

"But why animal training?" Claire asked. "I'm just curious."

Owen thought about it.

He just...He connected with animals. All the broken birds he found in Florida and nursed them back to health, all the stray cats that he would leave food for in the corner of his backyard so his parents couldn't see them, all the times he would sneak into the park to feed the ducks. He _cared._

He loved his girls, of course he did. But even they would never replace the love he had for Max.

"We're here for a reason. So are animals. Someone has to take care of them. Claire, I'm worried. I can't...I can't bear the thought of losing them. Can't Hoskins have a little bit more patience?" Owen asked. "Teaching an animal vocal therapy won't happen overnight."

He's already lost enough, damn it. Comrades, the security of a _family._ He doesn't want to lose his job and purpose that he has now.

"Don't think I don't know," Claire said. "The raptors aren't fit for exhibition yet."

Owen felt his heart skip in alarm.

"What?"

"Hoskins wants tip top condition for exhibits. Trust me, I'm not happy about it either."

Owen groaned and leaned against the metal wall of the paddock. He rubbed his temples and counted to ten. Oh no, no, no. He can't deal with this bullshit.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"I know how frustrating it must be for you. I'm trying the best I can," Claire said. "Delta can make tremendous progress, and with her being abled like her sisters, the velociraptor exhibit can be open to the public for the spring and summer season."

"So this is what Hoskins wants?" Owen asked. "For me to put pressure on a raptor that's barely four months old to develop communication skills with her sisters. That's bullshit and inhumane."

"Owen, I'm really glad you're on board," Claire said as she walked to her car. "Had you not been here, Delta would have died."

She waved her farewell and drove away.

Owen tried not to let the words feel heavy, but they still did.

* * *

 **I need slumber. Reviews are welcomed!**


	4. The Moment on the Catwalk

***Update* Heyo! Just doing some maintenance, editing the fic a little bit. It is, indeed, slightly longer, and indeed, slightly gayer. :)**

* * *

The Moment on the Catwalk

* * *

The paddock crew were some of the nicest people Owen had ever met.

When Owen joined after the other guy left the post vacant, there wasn't any animosity or exclusivity. He was welcomed like he was one of their own, like he had been there since the park had just opened.

Dubbed the paddockers, they enjoyed the job. They also had the united characteristic of hating Hoskins. Like most people, Tristan called him Dick Hoskins, and no one tried to correct him.

Camaraderie was strong amongst the crew, vaguely reminding Owen of a more light version of his old squadron in the Navy. Owen was completely honest with the paddockers, no detail left unmentioned, no footnote left untouched. If a meeting with Hoskins or Claire happened, the paddockers would hear about it. If there was a complaint, Owen would hear about it too.

If the paddock gets screwed over, the crew feels it twice as hard. A twisted ripple effect.

Owen knew what tone Tristan had when he didn't want any more teasing, but that came with knowing him for a long time. He knew to not yell around Adrian, knew that aside anticipated high fives, Rian did not like any kind of touch against their skin unless they instigated it. He knew that Gracia had two children and was constantly checking on them through text messages with her babysitter. Out of all, Guinevere and Wesley were the oldest, past their forties.

Francesca from the friendly giants exhibit always said that the Raptor paddock was more tight knit than their crew. And the lounge reflected it.

Meetings were written on the corkboard calendar and as were birthdays. Owen participated in the secret Santa the previous December. There were pictures of the raptors and flyers on the stocked fridge door. Even the fridge itself had personality. Each Tupperware container labeled with their name and a vague death threat should anyone take their food. Behind the refrigerated sodas were the beers that were only allowed to drink for _after_ a long shift.

It felt comfortable for all of them. Familiar. Home.

The crew all knew when and when not to tease around with Owen. They knew Owen's attitudes and when the wrangler was especially stressed, and to just step out of the way. Knew not to push him.

Sometimes, it felt more of a home than the bungalow.

Which was where Owen was now.

Thursday morning. 7:09 AM.

For the third time that week, he woke up before his alarm clock.

Great.

Thursdays were the only day of the week that had Barry coming in before him. He wasn't set to be in the paddock until late morning, so he got two extra hours of sleep. At least until today.

He tried not to snap at the paddock crew when he was irritated due to lack of sleep. It's not their fault that he couldn't sleep: they didn't deserve that kind of treatment.

He kept most of his irritation in check around the crew, mostly not interacting with them unless it was deemed Absolutely Necessary.

Owen grumbled at the early morning light gleaming through the bungalow window. He could hear the morning bellows of the apatosaurus from the other end of the park. Despite the circumstance he was in right now, it was a nice noise to wake up to.

Well. There's no going back to sleep now.

He woke up to two missed calls from Vivian.

When it came to missed calls from one person, two were okay. Nothing to get worked up about, nothing to exactly get scared over.

"Hey Viv," he greeted, wincing at just how tired his voice sounded. Geesh. He sounded worse than he thought.

"Hi! Sorry, I forgot you get in late today."

"You're fine. I was already up."

He winced at how tired his voice sounded.

 _Great job, you were definitely up, huh?_

"Aw, what's going on?"

 _Nightmares, stress, bullshit you thought was behind you. Headaches, feeling like you're a constant burden, feeling like you're an incompetent parent to your raptor squad, childhood trauma coming right back at ya.  
_  
"Nothing much," Owen said casually. "I'm just tired of the higher ups bullshit, as always."

"I heard about the bell. Cheddar is a life saver."

Owen smiled, remembering the video of Cheddar walking around Claire's apartment.

"I would say Cheddar is an honorary contribution to the cause of improving the raptor's health, but that would make it sound like the girls ate him."

"Owen, what the _fuck_?"

"Just kidding. I mean, Claire loved the bell. Delta likes it so far, and it's working with her communication. She's not bored of it. And you know how it is with a bored raptor..."

"A bored raptor is a dangerous raptor."

The bell didn't bore Delta, which was also important. Raptors can be very impatient, and a bored raptor meant a very aggressive raptor. Owen was witness (victim) to this when the three week old Echo bit his thumb after she didn't want to gnaw on the goat bone anymore.

Another thing that Owen liked was that Delta was getting more confident. Well, if confident being that she didn't hide behind Owen's legs anymore when Echo and Charlie were roughhousing. In fact, Delta followed Blue some more than she used to.

It was a delayed development, but she was still getting there.

"But you know what the memo is," Owen laid down and pulled the blanket over him. "Hoskins doesn't want defective dinosaurs on display. His words, not mine."

"That's just terrible," Vivian said. "Also, not that I'm dismissing you or anything, but you should probably check your email."

"Just when my bed called to me again," Owen sighed. He crossed the eight feet from his bed to the coffee table where his laptop was in hibernation, papers and a pen stacked next to them. "Which one? Work or personal?"

Not that there was much on his personal one. He kept it clean and free from clutter, with the only daily messages in his inbox being about latest music releases and notifications. He didn't use social media, much to everyone's chagrin. He had his reasons, didn't need everyone knowing them.

"Work." Vivian's tone has dropped from her sunny mood to nervousness.

Surely enough, one new email was at the top.

Automated email reminder about THURSDAY

Owen frowned. He was pretty sure he didn't have anything planned for today: weekly paddock crew meetings were on Wednesdays and. Confused yet curious, he clicked the notification in his email, waiting the few seconds as it redirected him to his calendar.

Surely enough, an event was highlighted in bright green.

Calendar event for 3PM to 4PM: Testing Group from LindaVista Travel Committee at Raptor Paddock.

 _Whoa, what the fuck?_

Letting out a surprised curse, he continued scrolling through his email, and surely enough, found an automated reminder about a test group he did not remember being mentioned in the memo last meeting.

"Uh, Vivian?" Owen said into his phone.

"Yes?"

"Am I seeing things?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why is LindaVista visiting the paddock today?"

"Oh yeah, the triceratops exhibit is closed for repairs today. Water leak, I think."

Owen saw right through her bullshit. "Vivian, the triceratops is an outdoor exhibit."

"Oh."

"Vivian, what did you do?"

"Me?!" Vivian exclaimed, her voice going a tad bit too higher than her usual pitch. "I wouldn't know what you are talking about."

"Vivian Krill. What did you do?"

"I sort of did something not...legal."

"What did you do?" Owen repeated the question.

"I...I may or may have not have forged an email."

Fuck.

"What?!" Owen exclaimed.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time!" Vivian said. "It's not just me, Lowery helped disable security feed for his office for two minutes while they were at lunch yesterday, recycling the previous footage and all. So I broke into Hoskins' office, wrote an email in his account authorizing and formally rescheduling the LindaVista visit, put it on a queue, had it sent at five in the morning. Electronic signature and all. There is no possible way they can tell we did it."

"Holy shit, Vivian."

"So far, no one of the higher ups has caught on in the change of schedule. It's just a regular travelling committee, the ones that hooks up families with the agencies and all. Or something like that. They're average on the level of popularity."

"Holy shit."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. _Fuck._ What the hell was she thinking?

There wasn't much time to warn the paddock crew. There wasn't enough time for a plan.

"I'm sorry, okay? I hate seeing Hoskins treat the paddock like this. The crew does so much hard work with the girls and Hoskins is holding you back because he is an idiot. It seemed like a good idea at the time. And it barely set in how much of a bad idea it really was about twenty minutes ago. I fucked everything up. And I am so sorry-"

"Shit, no, no, Viv, Viv, take a breather. You had good intentions for it. I just can't believe that you actually did it," Owen felt himself laugh a little bit, a bit shocked. A whole lot terrified.

"Hey, doing vaguely illegal things like forging an email? What are friends for?"

Owen let out a short breath.

"Vivian, you've...Oh man, you've either made things go very good or very bad for us."

"Hey, Lowery was in on it too. He gets credit and a share in the drinks you can get us if this succeeds. Or the same death sentence we will all get if this fails."

"That too."

* * *

Owen lied in reacting calmly to Vivian.

He was terrified.

What the fuck is going to happen? What the fuck is happening?

He didn't have much time until the test group actually game.

So maybe he brushed his teeth a little bit too fast and didn't properly rinse out the toothpaste and he could still taste artic mint with every breath he took.

So maybe he skipped breakfast and left his favorite mug in the kitchen cabinet instead of filling it with coffee.

So maybe Owen twisted the throttle of the motorcycle a little too harder than usual and exceeded the 55 kilometers per hour speed limit by a solid five or fifteen more.

The only non-maybe was that Owen picked his best "work" outdoor khakis (like hell he was going to wear slacks in this weather), boots, a maroon one hundred percent cotton shirt and a light vest. Claire's advice and distaste for cargo shorts always resonated with him. She was wrong though.

Owen couldn't stop thinking about just what was about to happen that afternoon.

It really was happening. Oh shit, it really was.

Okay.

Before he could tell the rest of the crew, he knew one thing for sure.

He had to talk to Barry about this.

Parking his bike in his usual spot, he saw Barry's pick up in his parking space. Okay, he was here already. That was good.

"Hey boss!" Rian greeted brightly hoisted a toolbag over their left shoulder. Hair in a messy bun and dressed in ratty overalls, they didn't have to worry about the summer in technically American "winter" weather due to the power boxes being inside an air conditioned shed attached to the paddock.

"Hey Ri, I'm good. Have you seen Barry, by any chance?" Owen asked, nervousness being so obvious in his tone that he wanted to sink into the ground and die.

Rian thought about it, but then they shrugged, "I just clocked in a few minutes before you, so I wouldn't know."

"Gotcha, gotcha, I'll just go look for him. Inside."

Rian frowned. "Uh, are you okay?"

"Peachy!" Owen blurted out. "I'm cool, I'm cool. Just…" he let himself trail away and awkwardly walk into the paddock. He returned the hellos from Gracia and Wesley, going into the hallway of the offices.

He found Barry outside the office. Just as Barry said hello, Owen cut him off.

"Barry, let me talk to you real quick."

* * *

A moment of tense silence followed after the explanation.

Barry leaned against the edge of the desk, listening as Owen paced around the tiny office and explained, more freaked out than his usual calm demeanor.

His only response?

"Mère de Dieu ."

Mother of God indeed.

Owen sighed, rubbing at his temples. "Exactly."

"And you want to go forth with this?"

"I can't unforge an email. It's our only chance. Right?" Owen asked. "Well, only noticeable and most available chance."

Barry nodded, not convinced at all. "So say we're gonna do it. How?"

Owen let out a breath. "With luck, mostly."

"So you have no plan."

"Well fuck, do you?"

"No."

"Why aren't you reacting?"

"Oh no, I am reacting," Barry said. "I'm also wondering if Sea World is hiring."

Owen groaned.

"You just had to go with Sea World, didn't you?" he asked.

"What I was thinking was to do the daily routine but more stuff to it. Introduce them to the paddock, tell them the science facts about the girls. Show them the commands, feeding, hunting, everything from the catwalk. I'm not going to have any kid getting their arm ripped off because they tried to pet one of the girls. I can just show them the girls some more, take questions, let them take pictures, blah blah blah. It's only six of them, including the tour guide, Sonia."

"Sonia...Cuban Sonia?" Barry asked. There were two Sonias on staff, both of them being tour guides. The only difference was that one was Cuban, Sonia Calderon, and the other was Haitian, Sonia Gilet.

"That's her. It should only take forty minutes."

"So you're going to improvise."

"Yeah," Owen said. "I mean, what else is there to do?"

"And if it goes wrong?"

"I'll take the fall for it."

"Owen."

"I'm bluffing, I'm pretty sure it's gonna work out fine," Owen said. "But can't blame a guy for being nervous, y'know."

 _Oddly enough, I'm not bluffing about saying I'm bluffing._

"I see where you're coming from." Of course he did, he was the second raptor wrangler. He was there at the meeting where Hoskins was an asshole and wanted to get rid of defective raptors. "The bell is working."

"Something I'm so damn grateful for. But for the bell, you know Hoskins doesn't care. He doesn't care about the animals, he doesn't care about the crew, he doesn't care about anything other than the money," Owen's frustration grew more and more he spoke. Why did he have such an asshole boss? "Jesus fucking christ, I already lose enough sleep," Owen sighed. "I don't need to lose anymore."

"Owen, what do you mean?" Barry frowned.

Shit.

Okay, fuck. Owen didn't know he was that easy of a book to read. Fuck.

"What?"

"Losing sleep."

Oh fuck.

"It's nothing," Owen tried to sound nonchalant.

"O."

"It's nothing. Okay? That's all there is to it," Owen tried some attempt to it up, continuing to shuffle around the office and not looking at Barry. "I'm really stressed out. That's it. Bottom line?" he finally turned to face him. "Are we gonna do it?"

Barry would not budge.

"Owen, _talk to me_ , what is going on?"

"I'm fine."

Barry raised an eyebrow in incredulity.

Owen tried again, "Barry, it's nothing worth worrying about," he said, exasperated. "I don't want to have you listen to this and it doesn't matter."

Owen felt as if someone had ripped away a bandaid on a wound he thought was healed. The raw, absolute , he hated it.

Resigned at just how nervous he really was, he sighed again and just sat down at his desk, sweat already clinging the clothing to his skin and seat. He slumped forward into his chair, running both hands through his hair.

Ugh, he just wanted to hide away for a few moments. Like when he was a kid, when he buried himself into his bundle of blankets in his bedroom or into his hoodie. Or into the soft warmth of embracing Max.

Fuck, he missed his husky.

"Damn it, okay...I'm nervous. I'm really fucking nervous. If I blow it, I blow it and the paddock is gonna feel it even harder. If Delta doesn't win them over, then what will?"

"It's Delta, isn't it?" Barry asked.

He wasn't wrong.

"Yeah." Some of it, Owen wanted to add. It wasn't even half of it. It was a good chunk of the iceberg that was definitely in the ocean, with an unexpected strike coming at one point.

He was too tired and frustrated with himself to kick Barry out of the office, but even if he could, he wouldn't. Barry wasn't like Lowery or Tristan. He was him.

"Hey," Barry had walked around at one point and he settled his hand on his arm.

The touch was unexpected and warm, Owen feeling his breath hitch a little when Barry's thumb rubbed a gentle circle on his skin. It was a new sensation, but a good one.

"You're trying your best."

"It's not good enough."

"But you're still trying," Barry said. "You're still trying something, which is better than sitting around and not doing anything about it."

"Barry, all of this stress…"

 _It isn't even half of it._

"You know I'm here to listen, right?"

"Yeah," Owen said. "It's just...It's not easy. Don't seem like we have much of a choice."

"God, I hope Vivian knows what the hell she's doing," Barry grumbled. "Damn kid."

"Damn kids indeed. Lowery was in on it."

"I am going to either smack them or treat them to a round after this."

"We'll see."

He tried not to think just how much Barry's touch lingered on his skin after that.

* * *

The best strategy was to have a meeting on the catwalk.

The raptors were in the paddock, enjoying the sunshine and darting through the leaves. Blissfully unaware about what was going to happen that same afternoon.

"Alright paddockers, we've got a change of plans. Got an email that we will have a test group today," Owen announced as nonchalantly as possible, like he was saying that the ferry to the mainland was going to be twenty minutes late.

"Wait what?" Edwin asked from the catwalk as he swept off the stray leaves that blew onto it.

"I thought Dick Hoskins didn't want to exhibit the girls," Tristan called out, as he lounged on the

"Uh. He doesn't."

"This was very much last minute," Rian spoke out. "Just how did this come to play?

"Shit, I don't know," Owen shrugged. "Beats me. I just...woke to the email. I gotta follow orders."

"Lies!" Tristan cut out.

"This just in!" Owen declared. "Tristan is on cleanup duty for the rest of the week!"

"It was worth it!"

"Grady, I'll be honest with you," Edwin continued sweeping off the leaves from the catwalk. "You are a shitty liar."

"Yeah, well, you're-" Owen stopped. "No, you're right, I am a shitty liar. I will admit it. Both luck and potential misfortune seems to fare us today."

"Does that mean that Hoskins get doxxed for all the bullshit he has done?!" Rian called out.

"I wish."

"Then why bother?" Rian groaned.

"Alright, this is the info on the test group," Owen began. "LindaVista, average middle class family travelling agency. Cuban Sonia is their tour guide and she already knows how to sweet talk them. Basically, we'll run them through the basic daily activities, I will talk a lot about the raptors."

"So a regular day, but with people," Guinevere said.

"Yeah. As of this moment, it's our only chance of getting noticed by the public," Owen said. "Yes, I agree that Rexy is an absolute badass and she deserves her definite recognition for living through 22 long ass years of this genetic jigsaw mix and match humid hot mess of a park," he said. "And well, raptors already got a bad taste in peoples mouth, y'know? From all the other times?"

"It isn't on them, though," Adrian commented.

"Of course it isn't," Owen said.

"It's ignorance. See, we all know that we're literally playing god here," Rian said. "Well, not we as in us, but the InGen cult. And Dick Hoskins just wants the money. We all know what his endgame is and it's seeing the stacks of gold on his desk."

"And you're saying that oh so magically, from the bottomless oblivion of his heart, Dick decided to give us a chance?" Tristan asked.

"According to the email, it's a yes," Owen said. "But off record, we got a Snowden. Someone is on our side. We can't talk about it now."

"What if the higher ups get onto us?" Edwin asked.

"It was in an email sent by Hoskins himself. They can't hurt us. We do what we've been training to do. What we've been doing," Owen said.

 _What we're supposed to be doing had the higher ups actually opened up the exhibit to the public in the first damn place._

Owen knew body language and judging by the frowns, the crew wasn't too happy about the circumstances.

"I'm sorry about the last minute notice of this. I got the email this morning and barely have a strategy planned either," Owen said. "Had it been another case, I would have given you a heads up. But this was unexpected. And it's the first and only time it will happen. I'll face the consequences of this if there are any. The last thing I want is for any of you to get hurt."

Rian sighed, stretching their arms. "Fine, you heard the boss," they said.

"Gotta owe it to you, O: there's never a dull day in this place," Tristan said.

"I will make it up to all of you, I promise."

Once the staff dispersed, Owen let his somewhat calm demeanor drop and let the worry go. turned to Barry. "God, I hope we know what we're doing," Owen said to Barry.

Barry let out a sigh and clapped his shoulder. "Me too."

* * *

 _Oh god, just drop me in Rexy's paddock already.  
_  
The girls were tired and didn't want to follow orders anymore. From neither him or Barry.

Both Barry and Owen were taking turns alternating in training the girls. Breaks were only ten minutes and one of them always stayed on top of the catwalk. It's like they somehow knew that today was an important day and they wouldn't want to cooperate. They whined more than usually.

It was almost one in the afternoon. It was only going to get hotter.

Owen was sweating, as was expected in ninety eight plus weather. Opting for the pants was the first mistake he made that same day.

The second one was skipping breakfast.

"Tristan, bring me another bottle please," Owen said into the radio and tried to ignore how bad his head stung against the sun.

"Already?" Tristan's voice on the radio crackled back. "Dude, you aren't even wearing a cap. Both you and Barry should take a break. A real one."

"I can't do tha-"

"It's a good idea," Barry said.

"You can take the break," Owen said. "I'm good."

"O, the girls are tired. We're both tired. You might get heat stroke."

The staff lounge was inside of the paddock walls, large glass pane hidden behind the leaves. The wall was different. Thick, bulletproof, dinosaur proof glass that was resistant to even Rexy herself made up the window, with a clear enough vision of the paddock clearing. Twice a week, Tristan and Adrian would go inside the clearing to clean the window from mud, dirt .

The specificity of the in-paddock gardening was an aspect not found in other dinosaur exhibits. When Delta's vocal issues had first arose, Kiana suggested that it could be a possible environmental reaction to the wildlife around her. Some type of plant pollen could be damaging her esophagus or causing her to have an allergic reaction. So now, not only were Tristan and Adrian just the window cleaning guys: they became the semi-official gardeners too. What with Adrian previously working in the prehistoric garden and Tristan having the gardening experience (of mowing lawns with Owen back in Florida.) Keeping the paddock clear of malicious weeds or wildflowers that could otherwise irritate the raptors or make them sick became another duty in the paddock.

Having spent two hours on the catwalk going over drills with the girls, Owen was sweaty and tired.

"O, go take a break. I'll try my luck with them," Barry said.

Owen sighed. "Fine. But radio me if you need to tap out."

"Will do," Barry clapped Owen on the shoulder.

Before stepping to the stairs, Owen faced the girls.

"Girls. Behave. _Behave."_

He got the raptor screech (and bell rings) equivalent of a solid whatever.

* * *

Lowery and Vivian were already in the lounge, Lowery drinking a diet root beer he found in the fridge and Vivian sitting on top of the table. Not working on Thursdays, they both decided to come around to the paddock and be there for moral support. (Seeing that they were the ones responsible for making the visit happen in the first place.) Already knowing the paddock crew, some by name and others by heart, Vivian was more adjusted to the mechanics and shape of the paddock and its functions.

The raptors were seen through the clearing. They were listening to Barry now, evident by their synchronized movements and on time sprints and chases.

"It's been a long while since I've been down here," Lowery said. "Charlie the crackhead, Echo the Gecko, Delta the innocent child, and Blue the beautiful," he said. "Damn, they've grown."

"Quit calling my child a crackhead," Owen said when he walked in.

"Hey O," Vivian greeted.

"Hi Viv," Owen opened the freezer to find a water bottle that luckily had not frozen completely. He always felt a little bit victorious when that happened.

"So dad, how old are they now?" Lowery asked.

"The girls are only five months old. I should be asking why you would call my child a crackhead. They're still babies," Owen shut the freezer door with a dull thud and held the water bottle against his pounding head. Shit. Maybe it was a bad idea not eating breakfast.

After the water, Owen was definitely going to search for one of the Lunchables he kept hidden around the kitchen. Something. Anything.

"Yeah, five months old but able to kill a man," Lowery said.

Despite the fact that their size was barely of a medium sized dog, the girls were beyond capable of killing a man. Or two. Or three.

"...You got me there," Owen admitted.

Changing the subject, he said "I know of the mildly illegal thing you committed. Jesus, Lo. If anything, I thought the illegal thing you would do is downloading porn without paying."

"Wow, okay. Out of all the things, you just had to go with porn," Lowery stretched his legs. "If I'm gonna go down and serve my time in the slammer, it would be for the right thing. For the good of the people."

"For Doxxing Vic Hoskins?" Vivian asked.

"Hell yeah," Lowery said. "Go out in a blaze of glory. But no, not now at least. InGen probably has hitmen and I'm still paying student loans."

"Aren't we all," Owen agreed.

"It truly was last minute," Vivian said. "We didn't have much time to think about it."

"After this, I'm going to either buy the both of you drinks or I'm going to kick both of your asses."

Lowery finished off the soda and bent the can in his hand. "We didn't expect anything less."

He tossed it to the recycle bin on the end of the table.

He missed.

* * *

Sonia Calderon spoke energetically of the paddock. Most of it was basic information that was already on the internet, but she was good in rephrasing it to the point a basic sentence about genetically engineered raptors would be one of the best ones ever heard. She was good with people, something Owen admired.

As the group neared the paddock, Owen suddenly remembered why his worst subject was Speech.

He was terrible talking in front a group of people that he didn't know.

The group was due any moment

"Barry," Owen said. "I don't know what to do."

"You got this. Just breathe," Barry reassured.

"I don't know how to talk to them."

"O," Barry said. "I'll be in the back of the group. Look at me, alright?"

"I will let the wrangler himself tell you more about it."

Owen remembered why one of his worst subjects in high school was Speech.

"See, Blue is the beta. Second in command. Her genetic component is combined with the Black-Throated African Monitor Lizard," Owen explained. "Big blue stripe right there? That's how she gets her name. Delta follows and then Echo. Charlie is the youngest and has green Iguana DNA."

"There's different ranks within a pack. Alpha, beta, delta, gamma and omega. Blue is the Beta, Delta is the, well, Delta. Echo is the gamma and Charlie is the omega."

"Who's the Alpha?" the little kid asked.

"Me," Owen grinned.

"Why does Delta have a bell?"

"When raptors are born, they naturally have their chatters into their genetics. It's their way of talking, like we do," Owen said. "But with Delta, she was born without the natural ability to chatter like her sisters. She's still healthy, nothing wrong with her. Rather than having her feel left out, we taught her other ways to communicate until she can learn how to talk with her sisters. Like the bell."

"So they know she's there by hearing the bell?" the kid asked.

"And we know she's here by hearing her bell also," Owen supplied. He looked to the parents and said, "But also it's kind of like having a baby monitor, but with a dinosaur, seeing that they're only five months old."

The mother and father both laughed. Sonia smiled.

Owen felt a warmth and comfort knowing that this kid, this little seven year old kid, didn't mind at all about the fact that Delta couldn't speak. Fuck yeah, this was going well.

With careful instructions, Owen walked the group through the catwalk in turns, with the girls running through the clearing. Making sure the group was safely behind the railing, Owen took a deep breath. And whistled for the raptors.

"Alright girls, up front!"

* * *

The visit went great.

The visit went too great.

The beers from the back of the fridge and sodas from the middle shelf ended up on the kitchenette counter and it became an impromptu party that would last until all the chips ran out.

* * *

The beginning of the sunset strayed over the horizon and Owen was tired.

He leaned back on the catwalk railing, listening to the tree leaves gently rustling in the wind and of the girls pittering around the paddock. They still had energy in their systems, what with them getting a few extra rats as rewards of their good behavior. What can he say? He like spoiling them sometimes.

But really, Owen was the most surprised of how well they followed orders during the visit. Having guests was new to them and aside from the paddockers, they were not used to an audience.

Owen closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh of exhaustion and relief. Yet his nerves were too alert. Too on edge. Adrenaline, anxiety, excitement?

Or a little bit of all, he guessed.

He let his shoulders sag and leaned his head back a little bit, the warmth of the setting sun on his skin.

Holy fuck.

The visit was a risky thing that now that Owen thought about it, he shouldn't have agreed to doing immediately. Not like he had much room in agreeing: it was last minute and there wasn't much he could do in regards to it.

His paddock could possibly be at stake. So can his job. So can the crew, who he cares for a lot.

 _I'll take the fall if I have to._

And it wasn't a dumb noble thing or anything like that. Or atoning for his past mistakes. He knew he was loyal to his crew and his girls and would do anything for them.

Whatever the consequences were, he would take them.

Oh god.

Hoskins.

His stomach sunk at the realisation that he would have to deal with Hoskins. Hoskins. _Hoskins._

He let out a frustrated sigh. "Shit," he muttered.

Fuck. What would he say? What would he react? What would Hoskins say? How would he react? How would it affect the crew? How would it affect the girls?

The sound of excited chatters and bell jingles from below made his thought process stop for a few moments. Something caught the girls's attention.

Owen turned to see Barry stepping onto the catwalk, his hand lightly grasping the railing as he walked towards where Owen stood.

"Hello _mes chéris_ ," he waved to the girls, who crooned in return. "How are my darlings doing?"

At the endearment, Owen smiled. Whereas all his nicknames for the girls extended to prehistoric gremlins to his Jurassic sweethearts, all the nicknames from Barry were sweet and filled with love.

The girls loved him, had loved him since day one. He was at Owen's side when they were born.

Owen smiled, relaxing at the sight of him.

"I thought I'd find you here," Barry said as he

"I'm waiting for their energy to run out," Owen said. "Gave them a few rats as a reward for behaving themselves."

"Then you'll be here for a while."

"I don't mind."

They watched as Echo bit into an already deflated industrialized kickball and threw it to Blue, who kicked it away from her space. Their "toys" consisted of an empty plastic bucket that was accidentally knocked off the catwalk by Owen during a feeding. The poor bucket was one hard tug away from falling apart, but was loved so dearly by Charlie. During cleanup, while the girls were in the smaller holding area, Tristan went to pick it up to throw away and received snarls of hatred in return. Charlie was two seconds away from killing him over a bucket.

The deflated ball was Echo's favorite.

"I told you nothing is Raptor proof," Owen said in regards to the deflated ball.

It was Barry who insisted on getting them the ball made. Said it would be like the small one the girls played with when they were hatchlings. Owen knew it wouldn't last an hour inflated and surely enough, he was right.

"The girls still love it regardless," Barry insisted.

"I have a question."

"How the hell did we pull this off again?" Barry asked.

"Uh, faith? Trust? And pixie dust?" Owen asked. He shrugged. "I dunno. Sheer luck, maybe. We had a great crew work on making it all seamless."

"Did I screw up?" Owen asked.

"You did good," Barry said simply. "Give yourself some credit too."

"You do that a lot."

"Do what?"

"Thank people."

"My aunts didn't raise some heathen," Owen said. "It beats apologizing all the time. I don't know. With all the hell life has thrown at me, I still ended up in a position where I'm safe. I'm okay. I got a lot to be thankful for."

"We need to start training the girls to listen to you some more. What if one day, I don't show up to the paddock?" Owen asked. "Say Claire asks me to go to T-Rex Kingdom to help, and my charming self does so, and while I'm helping Diego out and I accidentally trip into Rexy's pen."

Barry blinked in surprised, taken aback by the

"That's a little bit extreme," he said.

"I know, bit of a brutal example but it's the only valid one. I've never taken a sick day before," Owen said. "Aside from the crappy headaches, I'm healthy as a horse."

Like if I'm taking an unexpected sick day."

"I agree. But shouldn't we wait until Delta gets better?"

 _What if she doesn't get better?_

Owen shrugged, leaning his elbows on the railing. "I don't know. The longer we wait to find out what it is, the more time is wasted in not doing anything in the meantime."

 _Hoskins is gonna skin us alive._

"Stop."

Uh.

 _What?_

Owen blinked and did a double take. His train of thought did just that. More of surprise, really. "Stop what?" he asked.

"Worrying. We'll figure it out," Barry gestured to the air around him. "All of this. Training Delta, dealing with Hoskins. For now, let's just enjoy the moment."

Owen didn't say anything.

"Owen," Barry shook his arm a little bit. "Owen. We won. Let's enjoy this victory."

Maybe...maybe Owen should.

Owen took a deep breath and took in his five senses; the warm breeze around him, the chatters and chirps coming from the girls rummaging around under his feet. Barry's unmoving hand on his arm.

"We won," Barry repeated.

"Yeah," Owen finally said it, finally felt the realization of victory sweep over his anxiety. "We did."

* * *

 **Reviews are welcome!**


	5. Raptorgate

**So, there's an anxiety attack in this chapter, heads up for that. Also, I fucked around with science. Oh well.**

 **Enjoy.**

 **\\\\\\\\\**

 **Owen, what the fuck?**

 **We have to talk.**

"Good news or bad news first?" was how Claire greeted Owen on the phone.

"Bad news."

"Good news is that LindaVista loved the paddock."

"Well shit," Owen said. "Why do I feel that the bad news is much more worse than that?"

"You bet. Bad news is that Hoskins is pissed."

"I had a feeling this was coming. But I'm going to bed."

"Owen."

"I will dealt with it tomorrow, okay? I gotta think of new commands to each the girls. And I gotta sleep."

Owen did not count on the sudden arrival of Hoskins at the paddock the next morning.

"Grady, we need to talk."

"What is there to talk about? I woke up to the email," Owen said clearly. "Did what was told."

"May we speak in private?"

"No. What you have to say, you can say it in front of my crew," Owen crossed his arms. "Concerns all of us."

"Verdict? You saw the reviews. They _loved_ it," Owen said. "Bell and all."

"That's not the point."

"Then what _is_ the point?" Owen asked. "That you don't want disabled dinosaurs? That we are not fit for public exhibition?"

"According to LindaVista, we are fit for public. But then word will get around. Jurassic World against disabled dinosaurs? Vic Hoskins does not like disabled animals? Disabled animals not deemed enough?" Owen knew he was pushing it. "You know, you never said that comment was off the record. About not wanting disabled dinosaurs. Because clearly, it wasn't. That kind of comment is borderline Shamu level bad and you might just get a case of Raptorgate. And you might just get one hell of a lawsuit on your ass from many animal rights associations."

"You wouldn't dare."

" _Me_?" Owen asked. "I am the last person to be with PETA. Or ASPCA, PTA, I have four girls to raise, I don't have time for any of that. I'm just saying the truth...As a concerned wrangler, raptor parent and a _very_ frustrated staff member of this park."

"This exhibit is not ready yet-"

"For fuck's sake, I can't _force_ an animal to _talk._ "

"A bell won't get a command across."

"A command? These are _animals_. It's not like they're being graded on a goddamn rubric _._ "

They already fuck with science enough, now this bullshit?

"Do you turn a blind eye at results? It's been working!"

"I'm the only one you got for the job and you damn well know it," Owen said. "I know my paddock, I know my crew, I know my girls. Stay in your lane and don't tell me how to do my job."

"Grady, listen to what I have to say. I am your _boss_. You are _naive._ You answer to me and me only, do you understand?"

Fuck.

Same fucking words.

Feeling a brief shatter in this mental shields, Owen tried not to stagger in response, managing to say, "First of all, I answer to _nobody-_ "

"-Wrong, you answer to me. I'm in charge of you completely."

Owen tried to not let his voice crack. "No-"

With the best timing, Barry slightly stepped in between the two men, one of his hands on Owen's chest. Almost like he was trying to hold him back, which Owen did not doubt. "How about we make a deal? Five visits from five test groups. We pass at the very least 3 out of 5, we get the public exhibit," he said. His hand didn't leave Owen.

"You expect that's going to work?" Hoskins asked.

Not removing his eye contact with Vic, Owen replied with "It seems fair, considering how much you've dragged us in the mud so far."

"Fine. Best 3 out of 5. We'll hear the dates from the rest of the board."

"LindaVista does not count," Vic said. "We will get the dates approved by the rest of the board. I hope this is the last conversation we have like this, Grady. Incompetence is not appreciated in the workplace."

"Likewise."

When the car left, Owen let out a choked breath he didn't know he was holding. "Oh my god."

Barry stepped back. "You alright there, O?" he asked.

Shit, that was so _intense._

"Owen?"

"I'm fine, nothing to worry about. I gotta-I gotta email Claire real quick," Owen swallowed. Act natural, act natural. "Yeah, I'll be out with the girls in a bit."

Owen went into his office and finally, once the lock clicked shut, he felt it. The overwhelming sense of just awarenesses

Control, control, _control._

"You answer to me and me only."

His mother was gone. No form of contact at all whatsoever. She couldn't track him down, couldn't find him.

There are so many goddamn ways this could all go wrong-so many ways that this could fail.

He swallowed thickly, his head stinging in pain as tears rolled down his cheeks. He bigt his fist, trying to keep his breathing in check.

Too fast, fuck, they were coming too fast-he was suffocating, no longer above water, no longer breathing. He couldn't breathe.

 _Get it together, Grady. Get it fucking together._

He was no longer the adult he was now.

He felt like a scolded child again, running outside and not going back in until he had to go to bed. Avoiding his family, avoiding the yelling. Exploring every bit of wildlife he could find. Escaping.

Getting on his ratty bike and speeding through the deserted alleys, past chainlink backyards of barking dogs, trying to leave everything behind. Tears stinging at his eyes, until the bike hit a large bump and he skidded forward until he fell, tumbling down the cemented broken alleyway.

He couldn't stop crying.

Then and now.

 _In and out. Fuck, okay. In and out._

He was so relieved to see the hallway empty, restroom unoccupied. Thanking whichever lucky stars were with him, he went to wash his face and attempted to look decent in order to go out and work for the girls that were the main reason of why he woke up each morning for.

/

He really should have not skipped breakfast. Or lunch.

With a tired sigh, Owen finally sat down. He was always on his feet, not taking breaks. The girls had learned at least five new commands today, and thank god for whoever restocked the coffee that morning because he was _this_ close to snapping at everyone for everything.

The flurry of activity and stress but relief that came afterward oddly reminded him of rush hour back in Florida. The traffic was a bitch, the highways were completely blocked off at a few points, Owen was pretty sure he cursed out

But now, it was relief. The relief it came with getting home, the relief of sitting down after such a long day.

Delta was content in the sunlight, taking a nap. Charlie was somewhere in the paddock, chattering back and forth with Echo.

He closed his eyes for a few moments, soaking in the warmth around him and listening as he heard the rustling of leaves in the wind.

"Hey there Blue," Owen couldn't help but smile a little bit. "How's my beautiful girl doing?"

Blue leaned her head against Owen's body, purring.

He felt his heart melt.

It was the 21st already. The girls turned another month old on the 29th. God, they were growing so much. They weren't the little hatchlings that he Each one of his girls had little quirks that made them so different from each other. Like touch. Delta saw it as comfort, going to Owen when she was nervous or scared. Depending on the context, Charlie saw it as an invitation to play or as a reward for good behavior. Mostly play.

Echo loves any form of it, loved all the attention she would get. She adored attention, wanted everything first, often jealous that Blue would get feeded first. The unpredictable of the bunch.

Even when she was little, Blue was hesitant to easy touch. She didn't like to be approached by anyone unless it was Owen, and to a degree, Kiana and the veterinarians.

Owen kept a mental catalogue of what were positively connotated words for the girls. It was like nicknames they also responded to on the occasions they were addressed as that, whether it be Dee for Delta, Gecko or Elvis for Echo. Elvis, of all names, is what Wesley called her.

Since the fight with Blue when both of them were five weeks old-fight that nearly gave Owen a mini heart attack when he came back from an early meeting with Claire-Blue won. Owen had known that in packs, they would fight for dominance and determine who stood in a certain rank, but what the fuck, he did not expect it to be so SOON.

The reason for Elvis was that Echo had a deep scar on the side of her face. Permanent scowl. She looked so aggressive. So _angry._ But nope, still the same Echo that, according to Kiana, would _refuse_ to give up her blanket after check ups. Also the same one that smacks Charlie with her tail and still the same one would _screech_ while running to the occasional seagulls that landed in the clearing early in the morning. No reason behind it. She just did it for fun.

Echo was impulsive. Blue was mature, never once snarling or biting at Owen. She was full of authority, full of respect, and she was the best of the best.

But Blue.

She was so sweet. And smart. Man, raptors were so smart.

God, if he failed, he could lose them. He could lose them all. The girls, Barry, the crew-

A low croon pulled him from his thoughts.

"Yeah, Blue?"

His beta was nuzzling his hand, worry in her eyes. She must have picked up on his posture. Oh right. Animals could pick up on emotion based on their scent.

Fuck, his girls were so damn _smart._

"I'm okay," he said, trying to sound it.

The attempt didn't work. Blue didn't relent her actions; instead, she comforted him even more, her head further nuzzled now at his stomach. Her head fit under his hand and Owen's heart melted even more.

He felt his eyes start to water and okay, _no._ This wasn't okay. He couldn't fail this. He couldn't fail _her_. Not his beta. Not his Blue.

With a strangled breath, he swallowed thickly, struggling to find his voice for a bit before clearing his throat, "Sorry Blue, it just...it happens."

Blue crooned, her head further bumping into his hand.

"Yeah, I know."

God, okay. Yes. This is what he was doing this all for.

Suddenly, she was full alert. She snapped out of Owen's touch, running to the clearing, her head darting around. On the ground, Delta jerked awake, her head looking around for the disturbance.

A snarl came from the Beta.

Owen stood up, brushing dirt off his shorts. "Blue, stand down," he said sternly. "Stand _down_."

Just as he was about to investigate the source of her concern, the all too familiar alarm of an asset out of containment rang throughout the paddock.

Of course. Raptors had very sensitive hearing; they could pick up on something thousands of meters away, or when it was coming their way.

"Ah shit," Owen groaned.

Well, the peace was nice while it lasted.

Jumping to action, Owen whistled for the raptors. "Girls, front and center, _no_ w _!_ "

Fishing for his radio strapped on the side of his belt, he immediately picked it up and clicked to the right channel. "G, prep up their room with food and water. Who knows how long this shit will last?"

"On it. Shut the gate all the way through?"

"Yep, at least until the alarm turns off."

Owen whistled again, repeating his order, "Girls, front and center, _now_!"

Echo and Charlie darted from the bushes, getting into formation with Blue and Delta.

"We're going night night. Time to get in,"

"Rian's on it," Guinevere said. "Alright, just in from HQ. Asset risk is Level 4."

"Thanks G."

Level 4. Okay, not too bad. Girls didn't need to get evacuated into the mainland then, or into their metal kennels in the truck. Level 4 meant that the workers of exhibit had to stay at said exhibit until it was over. Unless of course, the main headquarters required trainers on site. Commands override protocol.

 _Fuck._

"Boss! Claire needs you and Barry at communication headquarters," Rian informed.

"Carpool?"

"Let's go."

"O, is everything alright?"

"I guess."

"Well, I was really nervous," Owen said. "I wasn't mentally ready to deal with Hoskins that early in the morning. Had to cool down afterward," he replied simply. "You guys don't need to deal with angry me."

 _Or panic ridden me either._

"Owen."

"I'm being honest. I had to cool off before I snapped and said something out of line in front of the crew. You know how I get."

"I actually don't, because you avoid this type of conversation like it were a plague."

Owen winced. He wasn't wrong.

"Sorry."

"No, no, you're right."

"It's just that...you're human. You're bound to get mad and honestly, no one would blame you if you did."

 _I would._

"About that...thank you for stepping in earlier. I, uh, would have not reacted very nicely had you not been there otherwise."

"Anytime," Barry said. "As the saying goes, you gotta make a lot of people upset in order to do the right thing."

"I think I fucked things up, Barry. I'm serious. I pissed off Hoskins."

"He might just cut this whole thing off out of spite-"

"Owen, take a breather."

"Remember, there's more legal and paperwork required to do that. Asrani has to be involved, so does our investors, Claire of course. There's more to it than just cutting out a program simply because one person pissed you off."

"But Delta. That...That can be an enough reason for him, right?"

"Like you said, animal rights. He can't just dispose of a real animal that everyone knows on the park simply because he doesn't want it around. The vets love the raptors, _you_ love them. Delta is still our Delta, bell or not."

"I'm sorry."

"O, don't be so hard on yourself."

"Fuck, it's just such a stupid concern to have. It shouldn't be a big deal, but oops, there it is, _definitely_ being a big deal. I'm overreacting."

"But the task at hand: asset out of containment. Is this the third time already?"

"Sixth so far in the year," Barry said. "Thankfully, it's not from the gallimimus."

Owen groaned. "Oh man, do _not_ remind me. I reeked of that shit for a week. How the hell does a nine foot tall dinosaur get from Gallimimus Valley to the _garden_ with no one noticing until _nighttime_?"

"Farrah. That's her name."

"How does _Farrah_ escape with no one noticing?"

Barry cracked a smile. "Who's idea was it, again? Cornering Farrah into the pre-historic botanical gardens? The area with all the strong scented plants? And not reading the multiple signs about the Arum Lily? The flower that was called _Dead Horse?"_

Owen avoided the question, because yes, it has been his idea.

"Why do we have that hell spawn? Instead of Dick Hoskins trying to get rid of us, he should be working to get rid of those plants."

The infamy of that moment lived forever.

Farrah had escaped the Gallimimus Valley during the day and no one had noticed until nighttime after closing time. And by noticing, it was when she had galloped right into the botanical garden and one of the gardeners had sent a rather distressed emergency call into headquarters saying "There's a dinosaur in the botanical garden, I am very afraid."

It had been a mess.

Locking the botanical garden was easy enough. But, searching through the maze of plants, that was the hardest. Only to top the icing of the cake with the damn Gallimimus running faster than any of the staff could catch up.

Owen had managed to corner her into one of the more secluded portions of the exhibit. Which, of course, to his fucking luck, just happened to be composed of the most strongest and definite repulsive scented plants on the world.

Farrah knocked him into a tree trunk, causing him to fall into the clump of disgusting plants at the bottom, giving the catchers the opportunity to sedate her and transport her back to safety of the valley.

That stunt left a huge bruise on his face, because it was quite evident that getting body slammed into a tree trunk by a dinosaur at full speed was guaranteed to leave a bruise. And the plant.

 _The fucking plant._

The Dead Horse plant nearly made him empty his stomach on site.

The aftermath of the whole fiasco created the stricter implementation of the day and night headcount rule, to check if all of the animals were in and appointed for.

As for Owen, he had to wash his clothing for a good week in hot water. The smell would _not_ come off. Owen slept outside because he knew if he stayed in the bungalow, the smell would be too much and he would probably contaminate his home.

Even Blue had to do a double take to make sure that Owen was her Alpha, not someone who looked like him and did not smell of him.

"If only," Barry focused as the clearing for the headquarters came into view. "Well, it isn't Farrah. It's a Baryonyx."

Silence.

 _"No."_

"Exactly," Barry parked the jeep and turned off the ignition. "Let's go."

\\\\\\\

 **Owen needs a vacation. And a therapist. Or both.**

 **Thanks Wiki and google. Please leave a review!**


	6. The Baryonyx

**A** **huge shoutout to BigBoss_84 for all the scientific help and support, huge shoutout to Ally aka spiritbloom for the advice, huge shoutout to Liz and the bene squad, another shout out to my best friend aka my better half aka the other pea in the pod—Zach. Thank y'all for putting up with my endless questions and my meme bullshit.**

 **Also thank you to the Jurassic World website and the Jurassic Park Wikia that I went to on a daily basis as I work to piece this work together. I borrowed some bits from the first movie. You'll know it when you see it.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Jurassic Park or Jurassic World or anything like that. I only own those OCs that show up.**

 **And also, the rating got bumped up for a solid reason, folks. Tags also. This is the first official violent thing I have ever written and it took a while, but it happened.**

* * *

1993

Owen was eleven years old when he met Dr. Grant.

He didn't want to be there.

His mom had been out of town with her boyfriend, leaving him in the care of his aunt, Jemma. Except that Jemma had to leave from Miami all the way to Snakewater, Montana for an excavation.

Of course, it wasn't a problem and off Owen was, packed up and most definitely not wanting to spend a week in the middle of the desert

It was more of the opposite.

Jemma was present, always, but she was the busiest. His aunt on board was Miriam.

Well, Miriam Benavides wasn't really his aunt. She was the girlfriend of Jemma, who was equally busy as her involved in the paleontology department of the same university. Of course, since it was the nineties, they were simply 'co-workers.' Even to Lorraine, Owen's mother, Miriam was just another co-worker.

But really, Miriam was so nice. She and Jemma took good care of Owen in the brief handful of times that they were able to see each other. Owen had an attitude, but then again, when you don't know how to quite express your frustrations at age eleven, and your at home 'role model' is not the best one to have around, you're bound to get an attitude, at least a little bit.

Miriam had been cleaning some of the equipment, Jemma busy taking photographs of the recently discovered fossils.

"Well maybe dinosaurs have more in common with present-day birds than reptiles. Look at the public bone—it's turned backwards, just like a bird. The vertebrae—full of hollows and air sacs, just like a bird. Even the word raptor means 'bird of prey.'"

"That doesn't look very scary. More like a six-foot turkey," Owen said outloud, scoffing.

He wasn't thinking when he said that.

The silence that didn't come from the sandy winds battering against the tent was deafening.

Everyone slowly stepped aside.

Only to have Dr. Grant stare at him, like he had come from another planet.

He walked forward to Owen and casually said, "Try to imagine yourself in the Cretaceous Period."

"Here we go..." Dr. Sattler muttered under her breath.

"You'd get your first look at the six-foot _turkey_ as you move into a clearing. But raptor, he knew you were there a long time ago. He moves like a bird; lightly, bobbing his head. Swiftly. And you keep still, because you think maybe his visual acuity is based on movement, like a T-rex, and he'll lose you if you don't move. But no. Not the velociraptor."

Locking his eye contact with Owen's, Dr. Grant continued speaking, not breaking off his stern and firm tone. Almost like he was the raptor he was talking about. "You stare at him, and he just stares back. That's when the attack comes— not from the front, no, no, from the _side_ , from the other _two_ raptors you didn't even know were there."

Owen felt his voice go completely dry.

Dr. Grant walked around him, not stopping.

"Velociraptor's a pack hunter, you see, he uses coordinated attack patterns, and he's out in force today. And he slashes at you with this—"

He retrieved something long and sharp from his pocket and at the sight of it, Owen's eyes widened. So _those_ were the claws.

"—A six-inch retractable claw, like a razor, on the middle toe. They don't bother to bite the jugular, like a lion, they just slash here, here—"

He points to his chest and thigh, then to his stomach.

"—or maybe across the belly, spilling your intestines. Point is, you're alive when they start to eat you. Whole thing took about four seconds."

Owen visualized it, and maybe that was the part that made it even more terrifying. Animals like that existed and according to Dr. Grant, could easily kill him.

Dr. Grant delivered it with cold, stone precision. No condescension, no threat; just the truth. Stating the truth like it is. In a way, putting Owen in his place without yelling and scolding.

Embarrassed, Owen swallowed and blinked back some tears.

"So, you know, try to show a little respect."

"Okay."

* * *

2015

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"Owen."

"This is too much. Of all animals, the _Baryonyx_?"

He had dealt with some light ones; the gallimimus, for one. Farrah was docile, more confused than enraged. The bodyslam that came with her case was more of an accident than a blatant attack.

A few times, he helped when one of the microseatus got loose from their prairie, which really was the equivalency of chasing after very fast prehistoric rabbits.

The raptors didn't exactly cut loose into the park, but they immediately ran around into the paddock when they got into it for the first time. It didn't help that Owen had never been inside it and was absolutely clueless and scared.

The way Gracia described to him the unknown feeling that he felt was the adult fear of losing your child in the store.

He had heard stories of previous incidents. The infamous one from 1993. Sorna, San Diego, Sorna yet again, Sorna, Sorna, Sorna being mentioned so damn much that Owen felt that it was a bad horror movie come to haunt the newscast over and over again. But it was common knowledge, especially with the crew and someone as unfiltered as Rian, that Sorna was more than just another failed experiment.

"We're not even ACU! Why are we here?"

"Because Claire knows you won't hurt the dinosaur."

What.

"The ACU is reckless," Barry said. "You're not. You don't see the animal as a threat that is to be immediately terminated or sedated, you see it as an animal that is merely lost and out of their habitat. Your priority is getting the animal back to their pen as safely as possible with the least amount of damage as possible. Why do you think Claire always brings you out?"

"Oh."

"Believe me, O. Claire knows Hoskins won't listen to her so her method of safety is through you."

"I...I never thought of it that way."

"Well, now you know."

Before Owen could leave, he felt someone stop him in his steps. "Hey," Barry said before pulling him into a tight, brief hug.

"Be careful," he murmured.

Every time something potentially dangerous happened and they were to be separated, it was always Barry that told him to be careful. Even before working here. It was always him reminding him to be safe.

Owen needed that.

But here it came, the stupid defense mechanism that flared whenever Owen was scared shitless and nervous out of his mind. When he tried to convince himself everything was going to be okay.

The cocky tone.

Owen grinned and asked, "When am I not?"

 _Please be careful. Please don't die. Oh god, please don't die._

In a moment of slight faltering, Owen felt his voice shake a little bit, and _fuck he is not going to lose it in front of all these people._

Instead of saying anything, Barry squeezed him tighter one more time and broke the embrace, wishing him and his squadron a good luck.

God knew Owen was going to need that.

* * *

"What if Rexy escaped?" one of the more younger ACU recruits asked.

"Don't jinx it!"

"Knock on wood, somebody knock on wood!"

Owen rolled his eyes. "You guys are childish."

Rexy was always mentioned whenever an asset broke loose. The ACU members spoke of her as a threat and an absolute monster. But more than often, taking her as a joke.

But honestly, Rexy was anything but a monster. She was the Queen. Like a lion dominated their jungle, Rexy dominated her land in Isla Nublar. She had been here since the very beginning, seen the rise and fall of multiple attempts of making the park happen. At the age of twenty two years and sixteen feet of height, she was a force of nature and pure predator.

Rexy was a dinosaur to be feared and respected.

Sure, the dinosaurs may be in their pens and respective paddocks, but humans were no longer at the top of the food chain anymore. At least on the island.

Owen most definitely did NOT want to be her next meal. It's like Rian's fear of bees: respected who they are but absolutely did not want to be near them under any kind of circumstance. He can't leave his girls parentless.

"Hey Emil."

"Grady! They drag you here too?"

"You know it."

Emiliano was one of the gentle giant caretakers, his easygoing attitude matching the warmth from the dinosaurs.

"This isn't an ostrich they're dealing with," Emiliano said, simple smile. "So they had to bring in someone used to the big ones. How are your girls?"

"They're fine," Owen said.

"Echo? Last I heard was that she got in a bad fight."

"She's the Tyler Durden of the pack, you gotta specify when," Owen laughed. Echo's love for fighting was well known among the other trainers.

Owen watched as the ACU unloaded high tech guns and rifles, some made to electrocute and others of high sedation darts. It always rubbed Owen the wrong way when he realized that the equipment looked highly military standard, except instead of the appropriate color of black, they we're sleek white and silver, sporting the InGen logo.

Thinking back on the girls in their paddock, the unpleasant feeling at having one of those weapons pointed at them…

 _God, I hope they never use those on them._

"Alright, so what do we got here?"

"Rifle and communicator," Vivian said. "Communicator has a tracker just in case and communicator will have you in direct link to the Control Room."

"Perfect."

* * *

"How did the Baryonyx even get out? That's my question. How the hell did he even get out of the river?"

"Why are we creating creatures that could kill us?"

"Quite hypocritical since you're the raptor wrangler."

"Raptor _mother_ ," Owen corrected. "There's a difference. You can train them to not attack people, mostly."

"How many times has Echo bit your hand?"

"Did Delta leave a scratch on your leg that one time she got stuck in a bush?"

"Do not attack my children, they're still five months old."

"But the Baryonyx has no wrangler."

"Exactly, like the Mosasaurus, they don't need one. They're peacefully alongside the cruise trail."

"She. The Baryonyx is a she," Owen corrected. Man, he hated it when people misgendered. Whether it is the dinosaurs or anyone in general. One of his biggest pet peeves. Moving on, he cleared his throat ans said, "Alright team, keep your eyes and ears sharp." His hand was on his rifle, keeping a solid grip as he looked around the green forest. "The Baro's aggression level is medium, but that's what we've only seen with her being in the river."

"Let's just keep on moving," Owen said. "It can't get too bad."

Owen froze in his steps, his hand on Emiliano's chest, stopping him.

"Did you hear that?"

It was low, at first. But then, the sound rippled through the forest, a sharp crack breaking the natural silence that came with being in the forest. Two gunshots echoed in the distance.

"Who fired?"

"Viv, I hear shots, did they catch the Baro?" Owen asked.

"No confirmation of gunshots from the east sector," Vivian said. "Still no word about the Baro."

"Accident, maybe? Some rookie getting too confident with his gun?" Emiliano suggested.

"Those were definite gunshots, not traq darts," Owen said.

At that, two more followed, along with a faint metal creak.

"Um...Do we keep moving?" Pablo asked, his hand tight around the handle of the rifle.

"O, keep moving, you're in the clear."

"Viv, I hear more gunshots," Owen said. "What's going on?"

"Shit!"

"Viv, _talk_ to me. What's going on?!"

"Loose asset! We have another loose asset!"

In the back, an automated voice on the speaker said, " _Level 9! Two assets out of containment! Level 9! Indoor immediate lockdown, I repeat, all personnel and guests must move indoors immediately!"_

"Wait what?!"

"Another one?!" Emiliano exclaimed.

"Vivian, what the hell is going on?!" Owen asked.

"Retreat right now!"

As Pablo fidgeted with his earpiece, Owen heard it. It was a faint barely there thud.

He motioned Emiliano and the two recruits to quiet down.

Then another one. And another one.

The leaves on the tree branches shook ever slightly, the brief tremor from the stomps becoming stronger and stronger each passing second.

Then came the screech.

 _Oh fuck._

From the tiny gaps in between each leaf, Owen could make out a tall creature. Long snout, eyes of danger, taller than the trees. She had a long body, and definitely did not look like the shade of yellow of the Baryonyx. Instead, she was blue, with dark yellow stripes all over her body.

"O, it's coming your way," Vivian said into the radio. "Turn back now! We have another loose asset. Return the way you came in, I repeat, _return_ the way you came in."

She made direct eye contact with Owen and the stomps became quicker and quicker.

It was the Suchomimus.

"Retreat!"

The two ACU recruits ran as fast as they could, Emiliano and Owen following behind.

 _"Owen!"_

A distraught cry came from Vivian through the communicator before it cracked with the tracker.

What came first was the feeling of three sharp claws wrap around his body and sink into them. The loss of ground from under his feet felt real once he was raised high above the ground. The rifle was crushed in her grip.

Two long strips of skin tore down his back, one down his side.

Owen screamed.

"OWEN!" Emiliano yelled, grabbing for his rifle and aiming it right into the neck of the Suchomimus and pulling the trigger.

The Sucho screeched in pain.

"Emil!"

The Suchomimus screeched, finding a new target.

The straps.

Shit, he needed to cut out of the straps.

From her rough claw grinding against Owen's arm as he fidgeted to grab his knife from his belt, his fingers slippery with blood.

He stabbed the knife into the skin behind the claw, hearing the Suchomimus screech in pain. Owen was thrown off into a pile of logs, the knife falling yards away from him.

"Run! Owen! Get out of here!"

Emiliano continued running, turning to shoot the Sucho over his shoulder

The inevitable click of an empty magazine was heard in the brief, split second of silence.

Had it been a human attacking, long ago would have Owen taken him down. Long ago would have the situation been taken care of. If necessary, long ago would've Owen disarmed and disabled the attacker, knocking him out unconscious.

Emiliano didn't have time to run the moment the Suchomimus dove both of her arms and sunk her claws into him.

It was too late.

Emiliano screamed.

Owen heard the sickening crunch as the Sucho closed her grip, her unused arm now serving as a stronger grip against Emiliano's legs

Emiliano screamed non stop, shouting curses, shouting for mercy. Begging to not be killed, begging to be spared. Blood spilled onto the ground like rain

The scream couldn't have been a scream of pain. No. It was a wail, a blood curdling wail of pain. Of utter, raw and ultimate fear. A sound that would haunt Owen for dozens of nightmares to come.

It was too late.

There was nothing Owen could do. It was done. The guns were totaled, the ACU was gone. The Suchomimus had sunk two claws right through Emiliano's stomach, the tip of them sticking out his back.

Owen felt his heart break the moment the Suchomimus ripped Emiliano in half.

In situations like this, the rational reaction was to scream. To panic. To feel every part of the human body just _panic_ in loud, obvious fear. The rational and expected form to react to a vivid and up close death—a _real_ death, not just a simulation or a drill—wasn't one that Owen knew.

This no longer was just a worse case scenario.

In caution, he threw his covered his unharmed arm against his mouth. He didn't scream, the shock practically killing his voice. He _couldn't,_ even if he wanted to.

Instead, Owen's voice died in his throat. No words, no sound, no form of verbal reaction.

No, no, no.

Not him.

In disbelief, he watched as the Suchomimus took one half—the upper waist—and discarded it, throwing it down into the broken logs. She threw the legs into her mouth, the audible crunch as she chewed and swallowed.

 _Emil_.

Feeling his heart against his throat, Owen saw the knife across the trail from him, discarded in the drop from the Suchomimus' grip. His rifle was gone, with the only real chance of self defense being that knife. But he knew even moving around the slightest would cause the smallest noise against the gravel.

Blood dripped through the torn fabric and down his fingers. Sweat rolled down his forehead and tears, definitely tears, blurred his vision as they spilled down his dirty and bloody cheeks.

Two. Definitely two gashes on his back.

He prayed that the Suchomimus couldn't smell blood either.

He couldn't panic.

The steps were loud, thundering in the already muddy path.

Owen waited until the steps had receded, had faded completely away. Once they did, he uncovered his mouth and let out a deep breath, gasping for air and trying to process what the _fuck_ just happened.

He choked up, a sob catching in his throat

Okay, he needed to find a way out of there.

With shaky hands, he felt around the trunk for leverage to move around. At the very least, he had to get his knife. It could be his only chance of survival as of right now. Straining his arms, he felt around the rough bark, hands clammy with sweat and slippery with blood, until his fingers found a ridge deep enough that he could pull himself up with.

Once he leaned some weight into his right knee, he nearly shouted in the stinging pain the movement brought.

His knee got fucked up.

A cry in pain sent him collapsing into the ground,

Limping, he tried to move again,

Tucking the knife back into his sheath, shocking undeterred by the attack, he continued moving through the forest, bleeding and limping, and praying to god that the Sucho was getting captured sometime soon.

Shit.

This had been the first time that Owen was downright terrified of a loose asset.

Shouting for help would only make it worse. Not only would it kill him, but it would kill the people that could be looking for him. Even if he was able to shout without danger, he couldn't. Fear closed his throat.

Oh god, what if it had gotten to the others?

 _Come on, Owen. Come on._

The heartbreak and horror of what he had just witnessed _bore_ into him. Emiliano was dead, brutally killed at the mercilessness of the Suchomimus. This was true ferality, a true predator.

 _Emil._

He looked down at his hand and saw more blood. His shirt was totaled. He was bleeding out.

Panting, he leaned the side of his head against the trunk of the tree and closed his eyes. His heart continued racing in the aftershocks of the adrenaline pumping through his veins, not adjusting to the fact that the danger was gone around him. Or was it? He was safe, wasn't he?

Wasn't he?

It was over.

It was all over.

This was the end of his line.

No, no, no, _no,_ he had to keep on going. He had to find safety.

He felt himself blank out, the outside noise fragmenting away slowly, piece by piece. Dizziness took over his senses, the sudden urge to just sleep.

Owen gave in and passed out.

* * *

 **Now y'all see why it took me a while? Tell me what you think! Thank you for reading, comments are always welcomed! Honestly, I know a good amount of you guys read this, and I am really thankful for that. But views can only tell you so much. So please; leave a review. I see follow and fave alerts in my inbox, but I really do wonder what draws y'all in. So pretty please; leave a review?**


	7. In Media Res

**Now this one was a wild ride to write. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Warning for a lot of character death. Enjoy~**

* * *

In Media Res

* * *

Vivian knew how important it was to be organized in a time of crisis.

Before working in the park, she was a former 911 operator for the state of New Hampshire. It took a lot of training and a lot of sacrifice; a job to respond to emergencies like that wasn't easy on the mind. She had the capacity and mental resilience to remain calm under times of pressure, and save as many people as she could.

The park had a few assets get loose, but none of them being severe. When one of the Gallimimus escaped, the only injury was Owen getting body slammed against a tree. That was it. The Microceratuses were practically the size of _chickens_ or even _smaller_ : far from life threatening.

She knew the park like the back of her hand: she _helped_ design the map. when the park map was designed and upgraded to the more advanced software they had now. Graphic design was Lowery's area, and she knew the map like the back of her hand. Knew the sector divisions and how they worked.

The radio-tracker list was up on the far right of the screen, consisting of a complete list of staff and ACU who were in the field with a tracking device in their communicative radio. Rectangular boxes with their identification photograph for the park, their name and their status. Radio Tracker List: RTL, or as the interns dubbed it, retail.

Despite the jokes that came with it, ("I didn't graduate college just to work on retail!"), it still wasn't a pleasant list to really think about when you realized what the list meant.

Status indicated where they were dead or alive.

Well, alive or deceased.

When there was a death, the box with the name would flash red and let out a short, loud sound of alarm and have the person be marked as deceased. The more complex setting was used to monitor ACU recruits and trainees had their heartbeats, position and blood pressure.

It was always accurate.

The radio was made to where it would cut off in cases of animal attacks.

"Viv, I hear shots, did they catch the Baro?" Owen asked.

East Region. John was in charge of East.

"John, any confirmation of gunshots?"

"Negative."

"Mia, North?"

"None."

"Jay, South?"

"No confirmation of gunshots," Vivian said. "Still no word about the Baro."

"Those were definite gunshots, not traq darts," Owen said.

"So far, no shots have been fired," Vivian typed a command into the program to refresh the map and show updated positions. The statuses of the rest of the park unharmed by the

"Alright O, keep moving, you're in the clear."

"We have a visual on the Baro!" John shouted out in the other side of the control room. "Baro is in the South!"

"Viv, I hear more gunshots," Owen said. "What's going on?"

Suddenly, the screen flashed and a large notification covered the center of the map.

LOOSE ASSET.

Asset 36 was loose.

 _The Suchomimus._

"Shit!" Mia yelled.

"Activating the tracker," Lowery said, typing in the ID tag made for the suchomimus. "Rayas 36, right?'

"Yeah,"

Lowery moved around the windows and activated the tracker on the animal to appear on the map.

"Sucho is in sector C and advancing," Luis confirmed, changing the map on the screen.

Nearly immediately, the list of the radio-tracker a loud short note of notification. Four names flashed bright red one after the other: Thomas French, Henry Queen, Kaidan Rodriguez, Lionel Monte.

DECEASED.

"The Sucho escaped!"

"What?!"

"We don't have a second paddock for the Suchomimus!"

"Shit!"

"Viv, _talk_ to me. What's going on?!"

"Loose asset! We have another loose asset!"

"Send the alarm, damn it, send the ALARM!"

" _Level 9! Two assets out of containment! Level 9! Indoor immediate lockdown, I repeat, all personnel and guests must move indoors immediately!"_

"Vivian, what the hell is going on?!" Owen asked.

"She's advancing to Sector D, getting near E," Mia warned.

"Retreat!" Vivian said. She pulled up the coordinates of the Suchomimus and placed them on the map. "Get visual on Sector E right now," she commanded.

The camera coverage switched as one of the interns swiped at the touch screen, searching for the right coordinates on the outskirts of the Cretaceous Cruise.

 _Oh fuck._

Surely enough, it was headed the exact way that Owen and the other men were in.

"O, it's coming your way," Vivian said into her headset. "Turn back now! We have another loose asset. Return the way you came in, I repeat, _return_ the way you came in."

The connection crackled and so did the security camera footage. Not quite earsplitting but damn well close to it.

Vivian could hear the chatter between the other people in the same channel as hers through her earpiece.

Owen's voice immediately silenced. The audio stopped working.

The communicative radio connection was cut off, with only the video footage remaining.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" Lowery yelled out. "I lost connection!"

ERROR: SYSTEM OVERLOAD

In terror, Vivian watched as the Suchomimus let out a screech and as she moved her arm, her hand tight around Owen's body.

 _"Owen!"_

The audio cut off and so did the camera footage.

A few seconds later, Owen Grady's name flashed a bright red.

DECEASED.

* * *

The network went down for five minutes.

"Vivian, what happened?" Claire asked, her voice in Vivian's ear. "Vivi?"

"We lost communication with Owen after the Sucho grabbed him," Lowery answered, his tone solemn. "His vitals are completely flat."

 _"No."_

Another name flashed in bright red, the notifying sound blaring a short note in the speaker.

Emiliano Franco.

"This can't be right!" Vivian swallowed and wiped at her tears with the back of her hand. The screen from the camera showed nothing but static.

Another name flashed in bright red.

Raoul Granada.

She heard Lowery take a sharp intake of breath and mutter a hurt, shocked curse.

" _Fuck."_

Raoul was Lowery's closest friend outside of Owen and Vivian.

For once, her training failed. This was happening too damn fast.

Vivian swallowed down a cry and wiped the tears off her cheeks with the back of her hand. She wanted to do nothing but scream. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. It was a nightmare come to reality.

But she had to keep on going.

"We need to find a better connection," Vivian said, voice trembling. "Something stronger that isn't hooked up to the RTL."

Manolo Ramirez's name flashed in red.

Four deaths so far.

"Damn it, okay," she said, her voice shaking. "Fuck. Okay. Keep on going. Keep on going. Get a better connection, actually fuck that, someone go to the network room and check what the hell is going on. Right now!"

Amanda and Fernando scrambled out of their seats, one of them shouting an affirmative and heading to the network room.

"Okay, before the crash, how many ACU did we have left out there?" Vivian asked.

"Four surviving units," John answered, voice a bit detached as another name flashed in red, Claudia Summers, the sound making him flinch.

 _Five._

"Find any form of contacting the Baro pursuit units. Sucho is being ambushed by the Elite."

"Get air coverage right now," Vivian said. "Two helicopters. InGen, BioSyn, I don't care, _we need air coverage!_ We're setting up a perimeter of Sector A through Sector G. Keep the assets within the set perimeter."

"Contacting any aerial units."

"ACU pursuit units remain in pursuit. Whoever is left, keep the perimeter closed."

Vivian wanted to scream to shut off the RTL list as another named flashed red. Joanna Langston. Six deaths so far.

The network snapped back into connection.

"Let's get these bastards down," John said.

"Any surviving units copy?" Vivian asked, dreading to hear silence.

But once she heard the voice of a very much alive Barry saying "Right here, Vivi", she finally allowed herself to breathe.

* * *

The lights weren't blinding bright when Owen woke up.

"What."

Tristan jumped

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, dude. Don't sit up," Tristan said, his hand reaching out to gently push Owen back down.

"Hello to you too."

"I'm serious, do not sit up. You got some really bad injuries."

"Scale of one to ten?"

"Solid eight."

"Shit," Owen grimaced. "Fine, fine. I can't really feel them."

"Not now, but you definitely will when the med wears off."

"Just lay it on me."

"I'm not the doc."

"Lay it on me, T. How bad are they?"

"To start off, you have a lot of bruises and a mild concussion. Which is the least of your problems."

"Shocker."

"Nearly severe fractured knee and...a lot of stitches. From the attack. It will leave permanent scars."

Scars. Plural.

He figured there would be scarring. The claws were huge, sharp as fuck.

"How many casualties?"

"Owen, I'd rather not," Tristan said. "It's going to make you upset."

"I'd be more worried if it didn't," Owen said. "How many?"

"Nine."

Oh shit.

"Fuck."

"Sixteen injuries, five of them including yours being severe."

"You know Lenny?"

"Yeah."

"Paralyzed, waist down. Baro...stepped on him. Trina had a bad concussion, but she's okay now. Frank lost an arm, got bad damage, I'm not sure. Still don't know about Robin."

"Oh no...Robin, HR? Wesley's girlfriend?"

"Yeah," Tristan said. "She and Trina went to get some late lunch when the Baro..." his voice trailed off. He winced.

Damn it, Robin was such a good friend. Wesley loved her so much, always had a fun story to tell about them together.

"Who died?"

"Owen, you've been through enough, I can't put you through this."

"Please, T. I would rather much hear it now than later."

Tristan took a shaky sigh, rubbing his eyes.

"Raoul."

Fuck, not Granada. Fuck.

He was the first guy that treated Owen to his first drinks on the island. He helped make him feel welcome instead of the new guy on the block.

"Tom...HQ...Kaidan, Lionel," Tristan paused. "Emil."

Shit, not Tom. Henry Queen was a fucking _friend._ They were the only two good people from ACU. Hell, Owen even went on a date with Tom when he first started working in the park. Didn't work out, but they were still good friends.

 _Emil._

Emiliano loved animals. He was devoted to the gentle giants, always a nice person to see in the park.

 _I saw him die. I saw him get torn in half. I saw him get eaten._

"Fuck, O, I can't do this," Tristan shook his head. His voice trembled as he fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve,

He only named six.

A terrifying thought set into place. It couldn't have happened. No. God, no, it couldn't have happened.

"Barry didn't die, did he?"

"No. No, no, no, Barry is okay."

"Oh thank _God._ "

"Barry has been in and out for the past few days. Watching over you, going to the girls, back and forth."

Owen let out a sigh of relief, closing his eyes in comfort. Okay, that was one good thing. Barry lived.

"You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that."

"It took him four hours for him to find you."

 _What?_

"Wait...What?"

"Vivian set up a perimeter and they did last minute scouting," Tristan explained. "To at least find...something, of the ones who were gone." The words of _something to bury_ went unspoken but Owen understood enough to know that it was not an easy task. Recovering bodies was one of the worst things to do.

He had the misfortune of having to do that once all those years ago in the Navy and the memory still gave him chills.

"The RTL said you were dead. They searched...They found what was left of Emil," Tristan said with slight difficulty. "And of Manolo. Then they found you, barely alive, and had to use the helicopter to get you to the mainland."

"Had Barry waited...you would be dead."

"How long was I out?"

"Five days," Tristan explained, and fuck, no _wonder_ his eyes had bags underneath them.

"Oh my god, we were so _scared_ ," Tristan admitted. "We were so goddamn scared."

"Oh shit, T-"

"Please don't scare me like that ever again," Tristan said, voice thick. "Please, Owen, don't scare us like that ever again."

"We were so scared. We thought you died and I-"

"I promise that I won't scare you like that ever again," Owen reached out and gave Tristan's hand a slight, pained squeeze.

He intended to keep it.

* * *

He had gotten the final verdict; a very severe fractured knee. The stitches were many, and frankly, Owen didn't want to delve more into the details than necessary. No brain damage, just a lot of blood loss.

He's going to have to go to physical therapy and wear a brace for a long while on his right knee. Crutches too. Goodbye, motorcycle.

"This isn't okay."

"Come on O, it's only for a few months."

"I miss her already."

"You treat your motorcycle better than you treat me," Tristan had rolled his eyes. He was in a considerably better mood now that Owen was fully awake. The wrangler had finally convinced him to go get some food. ("Eat a snickers, you're a little bitch when you're hungry." "Fuck off, Owen.")

Owen knew that at one moment, everything was going to catch up on him fast and no warning. It will come.

Just not now.

Tristan disclosed to continue talking about the Baro-Sucho Incident, saying that it would only make him more upset. He was shaky, still shaky, not quite letting his guard down but still on very much alarm.

"What's going on?"

"Shhh."

Tristan stood up and went near the hospital door, listening intently then finally, reacting in alarm and running back to his seat.

"Shit, shit, shit, act asleep, Dick is almost here," he said in rushed whispers.

Owen pulled the blanket over himself.

"Trevor."

"Tristan," Tristan corrected. "And go away and let him sleep."

"I was told he had woken up."

 _No, I don't need this. I don't need this. Fuck, fuck, fuck._

"Yeah, and he went back to sleep. Happens when you're in a hospital."

Owen could hear the bite in Tristan's voice, the unearthed anger. He was fiercely protective of his friends, his tone reminding Owen of all those years ago in Florida. When he was the one protecting others from bullies, but still getting those hits dealt to him verbally. He called himself a shield, when really, he was being dealt like a punching bag.

Not anymore, no. Now, he was the one handing out slugs. He was Owen's shield.

"Listen, Hoskins, I'm going to only tell you this once. If I were you, I wouldn't want to be here when Owen wakes up, or for a good long while. Your security system really fucked up this time, and good people died, people that we were friends with. People that we loved. The 'unfortunate tragedy' card can only go so far with fake sympathy," Tristan continued.

"It was a terrible accident-"

"Oh quit it already, will ya? You act like you care, when you really don't give a damn. You're not the one who has to go to nine different fucking funerals."

"This insubordination is not the kind of language that's appropriate during a trying tim-"

Had Owen been 'awake', he was surely the one that was going to be holding back Tristan from beating Hoskins to death.

"Shut up. Just shut up. You're not my boss, you do not answer to me. I'm off the clock, I know my terms and conditions. Honestly, I've seen way too many injuries for one week to stand the fact of another one, but I can sure as hell make an exception. Owen may have self restraint, but I don't," Tristan said. "So fuck off."

"You're not budging, are you?"

"Like hell I am."

Hoskins backed out of the room and the moment he was gone, Tristan jumped to shut the door and pull down the blinds.

"Finally."

"Daaaaaamn Tristan," Owen said in bewilderment. "When did that happen?"

"Oh, my attitude? The moment I heard the fucking alarm," Tristan said. "I'm so fucking _done_ with his bullshit. And okay, this is going to be way too fucking soon, but can we sacrifice him to Rexy?"

Owen smiled a little bit, "Should've been him instead who became dinner." The bitter truth in his words.

He just wants to go home.

 _Wanna go back to my bungalow, wanna see my girls, wanna drink some beers._

"Tristan, just how serious is this problem getting?" Owen asked. "For the park, I mean."

"From the looks of it," Tristan grimaced. "Very."

* * *

 **There will be clarity later on. I really did love writing the beginning from Vivian's POV. It was new and a nice change.**

 **If Owen seems OOC, just give it a few chapters. Everything, and I repeat, everything, will catch up on him. He is right now having a very delayed reaction.**

 **Thank you for reading. I will most likely not be active following the next few weeks due to school, testing and prom committee, and well, prom court. I have a chance of being crowned the queen! So please, pretty please, leave some reviews. Feedback, comments, anything. I will take it.**


	8. So Much Worse

**I lost heart for fic writing for a while and April is always a difficult month for me to go through. Graduation happened, got my schedule for college this fall, i finally have time to breath. Bumping up the rating now, also warning for a graphic panic attack and a _very_ graphic nightmare. This chapter is more heavy than the others, so heads up. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

So Much Worse

* * *

Owen's head ached when he woke up.

He should've seen it coming, or at the very least gone to bed knowing that it was inevitable.

He sniffled, some tears falling down across his nose. Everything hurt. His head, his knee, his side and back, everything fucking hurt; the fact that everything happened, that he's the result of getting nearly mangled by a fucking dinosaur, the fact that Emil was dead, and Owen saw it happen and he couldn't do _anything_ about it to _stop_ it-

"Hey, is everything alright?" Tristan asked.

Fuck.

Tristan was here, _he was still in the hospital,_ fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Owen?"

 _Emil is dead. So is Tom. So is Raoul. So are six other people. Emil got fucking slaughtered in front of me and all I could do was watch._

He couldn't even talk. The sudden bout of fear and anxiety overtook his senses, feeling smaller and smaller. He wasn't supposed to be alive. The vulnerability came to him like a 's throat felt closed up.

"Do you need me to get a nurse?"

He shook his head.

"Nightmare?"

All Owen could manage in response was a short nod.

"You're safe now, Owen. You're safe and okay. Right here with me. Alright?" Tristan said gently, his softness in tone being a rarity that Owen heard. Owen felt of his sweat soaked hair pushed back. He didn't hear or see this side of Tristan; of comfort, of aid. Mostly because he avoided every form of way to confront it.

But right now, it was something welcoming and warm, something so different from the cold truth of the hospital and the scars on his back.

Finally, he mustered up his strength to his weak, tired voice to say "I just want to go home."

"I know you do," Tristan said. "Just the afternoon. Then we're out of here."

 _I can't stop hearing him scream._

"It's not soon enough."

"Don't worry about the time. It'll come sooner than you think."

And surely enough, it did.

By one in the afternoon, he was out of the hospital with crutches, one currently unused knee brace, a bag full of pain pills, and scar treatment, and for later on, scar diminishing ointment, and two papers from a notepad listing out the next appointments for Owen's physical knee therapy.

Once they got off the dock and Tristan got the golf cart, driving through the park felt eerie. Owen got a few glances of crushed portions of buildings; the physical damage wasn't too bad. The further into the park, the more memorials popped up with photographs of the victims; candles, flowers, and a few teddy bears were set, and they were all in a respectable amount of equal to each other. He already saw Raoul's near the entrance. Tom, HQ, Kaidan and Lionel's were grouped together, for reasons unknown.

Claudia Summers's was outside the gift shop and _fuck,_ he remembered her now; she was the other cashier aside of Heidi.

Last spring, Lowery had been saving up to get a new software system for his personal computer. But he couldn't; what with between paying his bills and his student loans, he could barely have anything left over for himself. So when it was Lowery's birthday, Owen, Vivian and four of the other crew members pitched in to get a new software system. It was Claudia that offered to let them use the gift shop address to mail the system so Lowery wouldn't get suspicious.

It all worked out; Lowery was so happy. Claudia was invited to the party.

And now she was dead.

What the fuck.

He saw Joanna's and Manolo's.

"The attack has been trending on Twitter for almost a week."

"Do you think they'll shut down the park?" Owen asked.

"I doubt it," Tristan said. "What will happen though is that stocks will take a decline, investors will rethink about their funding here, and that a lot of people are going to quit. The last major accident was in 2005, while the park was in construction. Rexy ate one of the workers."

"Are you gonna quit?"

"No. You?"

"No."

Owen tried not to think about how hard he felt his heart break when he passed by Emiliano's outside of the gentle giants exhibit.

Vivian had caught up with them just as soon as they got to the bungalow. Owen sat down to check on his phone and just how much he missed. Phone that was dying at 47% battery after not being plugged in for over four days. How a phone could lose battery while not being used made no sense to him, but it still happened.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Owen muttered under his breath, seeing the multiple dozen missed calls and messages from his aunts. He briefly skimmed, catching the words "are you okay?" "we're worried" "please call us back." And oh, he was _so in for a long talk._

Owen quickly plugged in his phone and texted back: "I'm alive, I will talk later. Love you both lots."

He had to get back to Vivian.

"Owen!"

Jesus.

She looked _tired._

"Hey kiddo."

"I saw the Sucho snatch you up and-" the rest of her words were cut off with a sob.

"Hey, hey, hey, Viv."

"I couldn't reach you in time, I couldn't get the communicator to work. There was an outage, oh god, I don't know how, but we couldn't get it to work-"

"Okay, Viv, I'm going to need you to breathe right now-" Owen said,

"Oh god, I hurt you even more, I am so sorry."

"It's alright Viv, just to the other side."

"Shhh Viv," Owen soothed. "I'm right here, kid. I'm right here."

It was unsettling seeing Vivian cry. She was always in a sunny mood, always with a quick wisecrack that made him laugh or groan.

"It's alright Viv, I'm right here," Owen reassured, hugging Vivian tightly. "I'm right here, safe and sound. I'm sorry for the scare."

"I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it's alright. None of this is on you. Do _not_ blame yourself," Owen warned. "Don't. You had no control over the situation. You didn't know the Baro, or more less, the _Sucho,_ was going to escape."

He remembered what Tristan had mentioned on the way home; how Vivian kicked _ass_ in the Control Room.

"Tristan told me how you handled everything like a pro," Owen smiled. "I'm so proud of you."

"It's what anyone could've done."

"Yeah, but you're not anyone. You're Vivian. And you handled it like a damn trooper. You saved so many lives, Vivi."

"But so many more died."

"And that wasn't on you. I need you to know that. You did what you could."

Owen had known that back when Vivian was in the US, she was a 911 operator and she had to deal with some heavy shit on a daily basis. And even before now, Owen knew her feeling. The guilt of not doing enough.

Before Emil, he had seen his own share of terrors from being in the Navy. Of course, it was inevitable. It came with combat. But he knew just how awful it felt to see or hear something terrible happen

"It wasn't enough."

"It sure as hell is for the people out there with their families. That perimeter? You saved a lot of lives with that...Shit, Viv, you saved me. Had there not been a perimeter in the first place to even look in, I would've most likely died." Seeing that Vivian wasn't comfortable with it, Owen made sure to add one more thing.

"I appreciate the fuck out of what you did, Vivi. I...I know it hurts a lot, knowing that you can't save everyone. I'm feeling it too."

Vivian remained silent.

"How bad are they?"

"Well, you heard the doctor's report."

"I'm not asking about that. I'm asking about _you_. Are you alright?" Vivian asked.

Owen sighed. "It hurts a lot."

"What does?"

"Everything," Owen shrugged. Not the time or place to talk about it. "So I heard about Raoul. How's Lowery?"

Vivian frowned, shaking her head a little bit.

"He's upset. He hasn't left his apartment in a while. They gave everyone in the control room a week off so they can work repairs and investigate what caused the network to collapse."

"I'll shoot him a text to check on him."

Tristan lightly tossed his phone onto the couch.

"Make it ten."

"Make what ten?" Vivian asked.

"Deaths," Tristan said.

Owen cursed under his breath. "Another one?" he asked.

"Yeah," Tristan pinched the bridge of his nose and he glanced up, face expressing just _agony._ As if it hurt to physically say the news. He took a short breath and said, "Robin passed away this morning."

 _Fuck._

"Robin?" Vivian choked out.

"Yeah. That was Wesley. He...He won't be at the paddock for a while."

"Oh _no._ "

 _She was close with Robin._

"That's completely understandable, that goes without saying," Owen said. "But _fuck._ "

Things were going from bad to worse to oh god, _so much worse._

* * *

Hours later, Owen gave Vivian and Tristan the tightest hugs he could muster while being in a lot of pain and promised to keep in touch. He didn't know whether he was going back to the paddock soon; his knee would be the judge and specifically, how long he can spend out of bed without pain.

He unplugged his phone (Now at a full 100%) and got back to his pending conversation with his aunts.

And of course, they answered at first ring.

"Hey Miri," Owen said. "Sorry it took me so long."

"Que milagro!" Miriam exclaimed. "Oh Owen, we we're so scared! Are you okay? Is everything okay? How are you? How's Tristan?"

"Everything below the neck is fine."

It was a saying one of his old squadron mates would say after a bad day. Or bad night. Scratches, bruises, they were considered minimum pain compared to the mental toll.

"Did you hurt your head?"

"No. Just some stitches. Nothing too bad. Tristan is okay; he was nowhere close to the attack."

"We would fly down and see you two but the university won't let Jemma take the weekend off. And they're pissed that it's Jurassic World. Something about it being unethical. It's honestly just a bunch of straight white men being pissed that we make more money than them combined."

"Don't get me wrong, a lot of it is unethical, but I'm biased here because my girls are still the greatest."

"We tried calling, but they didn't let us through unless we had some sort of security key?"

"Safety measure. We've had a lot of death threats directed at the park."

One of the things that Owen agreed full heartedly with was the fact that the park policies had solid employee protection. Health benefits, insurance, it was covered. Approximately 72% of the employees lived on the island too and, well, it was a guaranteed that the job wasn't always safe. So for security, they had as much employee protection as possible.

Owen was there in the mandatory first staff meeting where there was a large emphasis that Jurassic World did not discriminate on basis of race, color, age, ethnicity, religion, national origin, pregnancy, sexual orientation, gender identity, genetic information, sex, marital status, disability, or status as a U.S. veteran.

A few years prior to Owen working at a park, a botanist was victim to her ex-husband harassing through phone calls. The ex called her office and personal phone repeatedly, verbal threats to show up and kill her. She didn't think he would go through until he showed up at the park, knife in his boot and ready to kill her had not security stepped in.

A lot of security measures were implemented _immediately_ following that incident. It was the first event under Claire's leadership that led to policy changes. Loved ones could only call and communicate on the company line if they had a security key. Their name had to be on an approved caller list and had to be cleared by the employee themselves.

And of course, Owen forgot to send that to them.

"Wait...I didn't…" Owen groaned inwardly to himself. "I didn't give you guys the key."

"That could explain why," Miriam said dryly, but no malice behind it.

"I was meaning to send you guys the key but...yeah. Shit got crazy here. Sorry."

There was also a blacklist of guests that were deemed a risk to the personal safety of the employees and to the safety of the park. Owen knew for a fact that some of his paddock crew members were protected in that regard.

As Rian had said, "We may not be 100% safe from dinosaurs, but we're sure as hell safe from murderous knife wielding ex-husbands."

"Tristan didn't answer either until today."

"We were really really busy. And I...I sort of forgot to add you to the emergency contacts…"

Miriam groaned from the other side of the line.

"Tia Miri, I've been very very busy!" Owen exclaimed.

"Yeah, and we've been very very worried!"

"Owen, please make sure to add us," Jemma said, her voice tired.

"I'll email HR when they're up and running."

"I'll hold you on that," Miriam grumbled.

"Hey...Uh, Jemma? Can I ask you something? In private?"

"Of course sweetheart."

To this day, Owen didn't know what grand feat he did in his past life to deserve Jemma and Miriam Montgomery-Benavides. There were something that Owen was completely comfortable talking about with Miriam, but there were some things that Owen felt comfortable to talking about _only_ with his aunt.

And well, Owen saw the trending topics from Tristan's phone. And god, the spike of cold alarm in his veins...

"Auntie...My...my name wasn't in the press release, right?"

"No. All they named was the day it happened and the two dinosaurs involved."

"Oh thank _God_."

He knew that Jemma didn't have to ask why he was worried. Had he asked Vivian, she would have asked why-and she couldn't help it, it was part of her nature. Nothing wrong with that.

"Is everything alright, Owen?"

"Y-Yeah. Last thing I need right now is someone going on about how young and attractive velociraptor trainer Owen Grady got eaten last week. You'll find a bunch of unqualified graduates lining up for a job interview."

Tristan knew why, of course he did. T's been there since the beginning of this hot mess practically a decade or so ago. But Owen didn't want to worry him even more by asking; he would know something was up if Owen asked about his name being out in the public. It was paranoid of him, he knew that.

He didn't want his mom to know.

Being at the island was his own way of witness protection. He wouldn't be found. He didn't want to be found, and hell, sometimes, the worst nightmare he had was _being_ found.

End of story.

If deflection was a sport, he would win the olympic gold in all phases of his life. Cracking a joke in the brunt of a serious situation to avoid emotional confrontation. It's always been there, that good ol' defense mechanism; even when his aunts tried to get him to open up as a thirteen year old. Even when he was "Big O" in the locker room in junior varsity high school football; when then, in that gritty Florida school, he was the tallest, the chubbiest and by far the ultimate smartass. Even when he was Lieutenant Owen Grady in the Navy. Even now, as Raptor Mother-Father-Parent-Nanny-Whatever the hell they come up with nowadays.

He knew it was a bad mechanism, but what else could he do?

"How bad are they?"

"Well, the park itself didn't break much-"

"Your injuries."

Oh.

"You're a really bad liar. We didn't even ask about emergency contacts and there wouldn't have been a reason for you mentioning it unless something did happen to you that concerned an emergency."

He felt like a kid caught in the cookie jar, being reprimanded. "I'm sorry."

"Sweetheart, I'm not scolding you," Jemma said, with a voice so soft that it would have been the verbal equivalent of running a hand through someone else's hair. "I'm just really concerned. So please, tell me what's going on."

Owen sighed, using his free hand to rub the back of his neck. No use in lying now.

"There's been ten deaths so far, fifteen injuries. Three out of the which were severe, including mine."

"What are yours?"

"Auntie, I'd rather not."

"Sweetheart."

Yeah, he wasn't getting out of this one.

"Okay...Fractured knee, a lot of blood loss, dozens of stitches and three ugly scars." And one hell of an emotional trauma that effectively shattered all hopes to sleep well at night.

Jemma swore under her breath. "Jesus christ."

"I...I was in a four day coma. Four and a half, maybe. Five? I can't remember, I just got back today. Which was why I kinda went...MIA? Technically, I was MIA but they found me so..."

"Owen, I am so sorry."

And yeah, he heard Jemma's tone go a little bit tighter, and there he was again, making his aunt cry because of him.

"None of that is on you, auntie."

"Sweetheart, you don't deserve _any_ of this."

 _You're not gonna cry for the second time today._

"I know I don't. With the severe injuries...It used to be four but...a few hours ago, I got word that one of the injured, Robin, didn't make it. She's a crew member's girlfriend. And a close friend of Vivian."

"A lot...A lot of good people died."

"Were you friends with any of them?"

"Yeah. No one from the paddock crew died, thankfully. Only one that was out in the field beside me was Barry, but he was nowhere near the actual attacks. But..." Owen sighed. "I knew them."

"Baby, just in case...You do know that our home is always open to you, right?"

"Yeah?"

 _Is...Is she offering me a place to crash just in case the park closes down?_

"I don't know the extension of how severe the situation is, but should the park close down…"

 _Oh shit, she IS._

"We do have a guest room and you're welcome here. I know it will not be easy, because home isn't a good place to return to."

Home being Florida, that is, she got that right.

"But we love you so much and I swear, we can make something work. If it comes down to Tristan also needing help, you know he's more than welcome also."

"Thank you, Jemma."

 _Thank you so much._

* * *

One shower later, Owen was laying in bed, waiting for sleep to come.

He was _tired._

Thomas French. Henry Queen. Kaidan Rodriguez. Lionel Monte. Emiliano Franco. Raoul Granada. Manolo Ramirez. Claudia Summers. Joanna Langston. Robin Hart.

Ten people were now dead. Ten people that were good people.

Worst part is that this wasn't the first time that _so many people died._ Not just in the park, but in Owen's life.

He felt like he cheated death all those times before. What kind of person he was to compare two tragedies he's been through to the other? He's seen his share of hell while in the Navy. But this was different. The entire attack was different in this case, though.

When he was in the Navy, the point of that incident wasn't a survival of the fittest. It was a blatant attack. Simple reconnaissance mission on a seemingly neutral cargo ship gone terribly wrong. The entire priority of the enemy was to take down his platoon and it had backfired for Owen terribly.

They were caught on a blind spot and that explosion had all sent him, debri, and his fellow men into deep water. Many parts of that incident had lapsed points, probably because he was too alarmed to remember but he remembered the water. The cold, brutal embrace as he struggled with his weight, how each movement dragged him deeper and deeper-

Okay, he needed to stop.

Anyways, that attack had been that; an attack. But this one was different. It wasn't human vs human.

It was predator versus prey. Humans really were at the bottom of the foodchain.

Making the connection, Owen remembered what he had heard all those years ago from Dr. Grant in that infamous, and slightly cringeworthy regarding his immature and rude behavior, Snakewater dig. Was it Snakewater? Blackwater? He can't remember. It was Nevada, it was hot, and Dr. Grant did _not_ hold back in that vivid raptor description.

Said description that always stayed in the back of his mind whenever he was with the raptors. Trained or not, they were still wild animals and they can still kill him.

Living in the park had him go through the main area more than a few dozen times, and he always read the same things as he passed by the informational, interactive screens. Dinosaurs have connections with avians and reptiles. Made sense; one of the girls had avian DNA.

And judging by the marks on his back that still hurt with every small move he took, it looked like Dr. Grant was right. Dinosaurs do have more in common with a bird than they do with a reptile.

He needed sleep.

With strain, he grabbed one crutch and stood up, wincing the entire time as he hobbled to the kitchen and rummaged the cabinet for a sleeping pill. Well, sleeping supplement; melatonin. He avoided every form of medicine when necessary, but he needed to go the fuck to sleep and he wasn't getting any at this rate without any help.

Half an hour to kick in.

Owen went back to his bed and laid down, turning off his lamp and pulling the covers over his head and waiting for the buzz of the pill to slowly lull him to sleep.

* * *

He didn't know just what the hell that dinosaur was.

The dinosaur had the body of a t-rex, but it wasn't that. Rough, large spikes lined her spine, like the Spinosaurus. One time, Rian had described the dinosaur breeding process in the park as a genetic alphabet soup.

as a blend of so many different breeds into one animal spelling out into one large _terrifying…_ dinosaur? Was it even a dinosaur?

If it was, it wasn't one from the park. Nowhere near the tanned color of Rexy. Her skin was green, but it wasn't the deep emerald that Delta had, or the pale leaf green Charlie did. No, it had a sick shade of green, like it was malnourished. Sick. The eyes were a dark, chilling shade of black and she growled.

"Run! Owen!"

He ran.

He listened to the sounds of trees crashing down.

"Owen, no!"

Emil shoved him out of the way, making Owen stumble onto the ground

Her arm was identical to the Suchomimus' as she reached out and grabbed Emil again, and that damned repeated motion. Tearing him in half. Emil screamed, again.

Terrified, he let his flight instincts take over as he rolled under the truck and made quick haste to cut the tube of gas and pour it over himself to mask his scent. The smell was foul and he felt like retching as he avoided getting any of the drops against his mouth.

The trucks parked in front of the paddock were crushed easily by the dinosaur in a few steps. Not the one Owen was under.

He might just live. Okay. Lay down, stay quiet, wait for her to go away and then, he _runs._ He knows this side of the park; monorail went through and had a station, he could run in time and notify the rest of the park, if they didn't know already. The dinosaur was going the opposite way, probably to maintance-

The alarm of the truck started wailing.

 _Shit, which one?_

It couldn't been the remnants of the crushed vehicles. His ears rang harshly and he winced, feeling the tremble of the earth as the dinosaur turned around and started walking-

His direction.

The dinosaur's tail had hit the truck he was under and the alarm went off. She was getting closer, closer, her claws closing around the bed of the truck.

Sweat and tears rolled down his face and he realize that in that moment, he was going to die. He was going to die. This was it. Oh god, oh god-

With a choked gasp, Owen woke up to the sound of loud beeps, over and over.

 _I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die-_

* * *

Pale blue light shone through the curtains above his head. The air conditioning unit was on at a low fan, spreading cool air throughout the small bungalow.

But instead of the wailing car alarm, it was his alarm clock making its usual rounds

He was going to die.

…..Wasn't he?

His alarm shut off on automatic snooze and left him in his bungalow in silence. Not under a truck covered in gasoline.

Owen woke up crying for the second time that week.

It's just a dream, he thought to himself. His heartbeat was rapid, wild and out of control. Breathing erratic, he frantically recognized the signs of a panic attack. Shit.

 _It's just a dream._

Yet it felt too damn real. He could smell the foul stench of the gasoline as it soaked into his clothes, the rough gravel stabbing into his skin as he stumbled into the ground. He could hear, yet again, Emil's screams. The blood sprayed _across the gravel-_

He sobbed.

It hurt so fucking much. Why did this have to happen?

He already had the heaviness of the memory etched into his brain, to the point that the smallest noise made him jump. He had the scars; two large tears at his side and one on his back. The structure of the marks reminded him of an eagle catching a mouse with its sharp, deadly claws.

He needed to get out of the house.

* * *

 **Yes, that was a shout out to the scene in Jurassic World with the Indominus Rex! Don't worry, there won't be an Indominus Rex in this fic. But yeah, that was chapter eight! Thank you for reading, and waiting: comments are so welcome!**


	9. Subject V-22

**Hey there. It's been a while. So college totally happened and my laptop keyboard busted. Fucking rest in peace bitch (until it gets fixed, of course.) Right now, i'm typing from my old desktop keyboard that's been with me since 2009. And, guess what? Still writing fic then. And still writing fic now. More reliable than a laptop. But hey! I'm back! Annnd turns out, i have not done enough research.**

 **Rather than fully reverting to my typical reaction ("SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT I FUCKEDUP I FUCKED UP FUCKFUCK FUCK!") I decided to include more back-story and world building. This fic is _very_ canon divergent but still very much connected to the canon elements. And before I get any naco telling me that the raptors would not behave like this: it's canon. The baby raptors in the Jurassic Park books were SO adorable and acted like puppies. Hell, one of them really loved chocolate. We're getting Jeff Goldblum in the next movie and Justice Smith, so until then, or until this fic actually gets finished, hell yeah I'm gonna have a lot of fun. **

**I took a very long time on this but I ended up having a lot of fun. And I barely found out about V-22 and holy shit, did I fucking GO with it!**

* * *

Subject V-22

* * *

 _August 2011_

It was a humid August day in South Florida, Barry still not used to the timezone adjustment that came from leaving Paris the weekend prior to classes starting. Early morning, 9 AM course on a Monday.

Barry knew absolutely not a single person in the class.

Until a tall guy with cargo shorts approached him and said "Two weird questions: is this seat taken and are you also above the age of twenty five?"

To this day, that is still the most unique way anyone was every interacted with Barry.

"To answer, no, this seat is not taken. And yes, I am also over the age of twenty five."

"Oh thank god!" the man grinned and sat down next to him. "I was starting to feel self concious. This is the first classes that I was the oldest person in the room aside the professor."

"No shame in age," Barry chuckled and offered his hand. "Barry Moreau."

The man smiled and shook it in return. "Owen Grady. Pleased to meet you."

That day, Barry learned that Owen was a veteran and only needed two more years to graduate. Barry only needed two more semesters to graduate with his master's. He chose to focus his last year and a half on studying marine biology-not his focus field of animal behavior sciences, but still vital background he felt he had to know.

And well, they became friends.

He had a sense of humor that Barry got along with, and was staying with his aunts who were faculty of the university. Professor Jemma Montgomery and Dr. Miriam Benavides, dubbed the "paleontology power couple", among their department and their students. The last year of college for Barry became, arguably, the best year.

When Barry graduated the May of 2012, Owen attended wholeheartedly. graduated early May of 2013, Barry knowing that. He went to the ceremony before moving to Costa Rica, to start his role as research analyst for the IBRIS project.

Randall Hansen had experience dealing with predators of all sizes, having worked as a trainer in multiple zoos

The Integrated Behavioral Raptor Intelligence Study, or the IBRIS Project began development in 2012. The team behind all the genetically engineered dinosaurs at Jurassic World recruited the best of the best to purse an ambitious project: integrate a human into a velociraptor pack.

The dossier included information about the raptor trainer, Randall Hansen. Hansen was thirty seven, a trainer with a strong focus on predators. Well experienced in his field. A personal friend of Vic Hoskins and recommended on his part. Not many people volunteered from the park because everyone, even the developers, knew that velociraptors are just as dangerous as a t-rex. Just on a smaller scale. What they lacked in size to compare against a t-rex, they made up in intelligence, speed and precision.

When Barry reached the list of zoos and sanctuaries he had worked with, he felt the mental red flag show up when he saw Sea World pop up as most longest _and_ most recent place of employment.

Randall wasn't set to arrive on the island until four months before Subject V-22 was born.

Before V-22 was born, Barry would spend time in the Control Room, collecting statistics and data/ dinosaur researcher. He would spend time collecting statistics in the Control Room, where he got to know Vivian Krill and Lowery Cruthers very closely.

Rather than being greeted as Mr. Moreau, he was simply known as Barry. How he wanted to be known.

Barry could tell the problem the moment that Randall walked into the meeting room twenty minutes late.

His tactics in the dossier were described as "assertive, taking control of the situation and turning it around." Very dominant.

In September of 2013, Subject V-22 attacked and killed Randall.

Controversy around the park arose, as it always did with every incident that occurred no matter the degree of it. At the time of the attack, Barry was in Paris, attending his cousin's wedding. Being a research analyst, he wasn't needed at the very moment until assisting the .

Subject V-22 had to be forcefully euthanized. From reading the reports and having the unfortunate duty of having to watch the surveillance videos, Barry knew that Randall did not stand a chance. The moment Randall stepped in the paddock, he was done for.

An investigation by InGen was conducted, with video survaillance and round the clock video survaillance being pulled from every crevice of their database. From V-22's feedings to old videos of the Big One, to footage from the Sorna Incident. The V-22 incident had a close comparison to the first on record velociraptor incident during a pre-opening tour of Jurassic Park in the nineties. When the raptors had formed a "mutiny" per say. Subject V-22 was planning this. Had been planning it for months.

Randall's personality had not been symbiotic with V-22.

"We need someone that respects animals. Not controls them."

"Actually," Barry said. "I think I know somebody."

* * *

By the time Owen graduated, he had a job ready. Raptor wrangling a pack of four that were due in to be hatched in November of 2014. He chose to stay to live on the park, having told Barry that he found the perfect spot: a little bungalow next to the lake.

He had fit in with the park crew perfectly, fully embracing the fact that he was, of course, from Florida so no wonder he was a natural candiate to train raptors. He liked Vivian and Lowery, who he had said "Glad to know i'm not the only dinosaur nut in the park."

Emiliano Franco let Owen pet the gentle giant he took care of and Barry was there when Owen got to pet his first dinosaur. It was great.

He genuinely enjoyed this. He enjoyed being around animals.

Owen tensed up around Vic Hoskins. It was obvious he didn't like him. Which was a bonding fact among the paddock crew that made him more appealing than "the other guy."

Randall Hansen got reduced to vague references in the database to avoid controversy. And it was like Owen was there the whole time.

* * *

The incubating room was hot, a method the old park had developed to simulated the hot conditions that the dinosaurs originally lived in all those years ago. It was done after a few eggs of trial and error, Dr. Wu had explained. Which Barry had learned a long time ago that it was just a nicer way of saying "we fucked up in trying to rush science in order to appease our sponsors."

Was he nervous? Damn right he was.

Owen had been in the middle of lunch with Barry when he got the phone call that the raptor eggs started to move more and more. Two weeks earlier than expected. Which was very unusual, very risky and so far, meant that the eggs would die.

And just as Owen and Barry practically ran into the incubation room, the eggs stopped moving.

And they stopped for half an hour.

"I'm sorry, Owen. I don't think she will make it."

"Just give her a little bit," Owen said, not taking his eyes off of the egg. "Give the girls some time."

"We can't detect any movements," Henry said.

Owen stayed silent.

He sighed and rubbed his temples, feeling the same pricking sensation that came whenever he was upset and on the verge of tears. It was slow, like a cloud rolling in.

Barry's hands were settled on Owen's shoulder, standing behind him. And Owen felt the presence to be calming. He reached up, despite how sweaty his hand was, and held onto Barry's hand.

Finally, a tiny crack broke the silence.

For a moment, Owen feared he was hearing things.

"She's hatching," Barry said. "O, she's hatching."

"Oh my god."

Owen hurriedly let go and put on his gloves.

Her head poked out of the eggshell, tiny claws grasping for the edges of it. She continued pushing and pushing. Then there she was. Small, brand new, and blue.

A tiny shrill squeak melted Barry's heart in an instant.

"Hey there," Owen said, his voice tight in bewildered joy rather than grief. He smiled and shakingly reached his gloved hand out, gently stroking the top of her sticky head as she stretched, a tiny shrill squeak making him smile, Owen laughed, disbelief and relief clouding his heart.

The raptor crawled out of her eggshell and into Owen's palm. She crooned and looked right up at him, big eyes seeing the world for the first time.

He was her world now.

* * *

Blue, Delta, Echo and Charlie. Prehistoric Gremlins. Raptor Squad.

But Owen just referred to them as his girls.

Dr. Kiana Gonzales, one of the top vetenerians on the park, was newly assigned to the IBRIS project as medical support. She, alongside Dr. Wu and Claire Dearing (when available), was present at the birth of every dinosaur on the park. Filled with nothing but genuine love for her job, Barry was glad to have her on the team for the pack.

The raptors were now three weeks old and absolutely adored by the park.

"So far, so good. Delta is a bit shy, though."

"How so?"

"She won't chatter to her sisters. Whine, yes. Cry for food, yes. But not the chatter that raptors are known for."

"That's...not common," Owen said, for the lack of a better reply. "Has this happened before to the velociraptor species?" he asked.

"She does have avian DNA," Kiana noted. "And gecko too. Not quite timid, but more on the skittish side."

"That's a common bird behavior. So maybe that has something to do with it."

"Maybe. We'll keep monitoring her, though," Kiana said. "She's healthy, but more of a timid nature."

"For now, they're just getting their sea legs," Owen said as he gently used his palm to redirect Charlie from falling off the edge of the table. "Walking and eating everything, that is. Imagine how excited they'll be when they see the paddock."

* * *

At four weeks old, Echo bit Owen.

It wasn't a play bite. It was a bite. A strong one on Owen's thumb.

For a terrifying moment, Barry feared that all the good development would go to hell like V-2 did.

"Ow! Echo, what the hell?!"

"She bit me!"

"Are you bleeding?"

Owen hissed and covered up his finger with his other hand, hissing in pain.

On the table, Blue nearly pounced onto Echo, had it not been for Barry's hold on her. She snapped at her, her claws out at Echo with intent to attack.

Kiana was called in to help treat Owen's wound. The other scientist had a syringe to put Echo to sleep.

"Don't knock her out!" Owen called from one side of the room. "Just keep them off each other!"

Echo snarled at Blue, who was held up and a few feet away from her. Delta had ran to hide, Charlie barely waking up from her sleep.

"No, no, no. We are not having that," Barry said firmly.

"Blue, stand down! Stand down, girl. Don't hurt Echo," Owen continued to call out.

Another handler picked up Echo and kept her away from Blue. She snarled angrily, trashing in his grip.

"Is she becoming aggressive?" Dr. Wu asked.

Owen shook his head. "Hell no. She's cranky," he said.

"Cranky?"

"You know how humans get cranky without food? Same with dinosaurs. Right now, baby raptors don't need 'feeding' times. They just need to be fed. They're babies. They're hungry all the time."

"But she bit you," Dr. Wu said. "She may want human meat."

"Doubt it. I had a burger for lunch. She could smell the beef on my fingers still. I wiped my hands off on napkins, but forgot to wash my hands."

"Wait."

Barry reached for his food across the other table, the interns rapidly aiding him to get the food closer to him. He ripped off a piece and handed it to Echo.

Owen watched as Barry fed the raptors small pieces of his burger.

"Well, shit. I'll be damned."

"Think we can get them to send a few pounds of raw beef patties for the time being?"

"Why raw though?" Kiana asked. "The girls are enjoying it cooked."

"I highly doubt they had grilled burgers in the cretaceous era."

That emanated a laugh from the rest of the scientists in the room. Even a small smile from Dr. Wu.

The tension dissipated as Barry continued feeding the raptor tiny pieces of the burger. One of the interns had confirmed the raw beef patties were in transit, so Barry carefully rationed the meat, not wanting the girls to get full just yet.

With the girls calm again, Owen finished washing the bite and wrapping it with a bandage.

Barry calmed down the shaking Delta and coaxed her into eating some more of the burger. Once that was achieved, he distracted Charlie with one of the raptor-proof balls that she had been playing with earlier by rolling it around and having her chase it.

The girls got through three patties before they were full and went to sleep.

The immediate difference? Randall automatically categorized V-2 as aggressive when she bit him at a month old. Treated her with hostility. Trying to assert himself as dominant, as the alpha.

Owen could tell that Echo was hungry instead of aggressive in less than ten minutes.

Maybe they can pull this off.

* * *

Just as Barry began to head out to the ferry for the night, Owen stopped him briefly.

"Thank you," Owen said. "You were a _natural_ back there at handling the situation. You reacted so fast when I was at a loss. So seriously. Thank you."

Barry smiled. "It's no problem," he said. "I'm glad you didn't get hurt...much."

Owen shrugged. "You mean this?" he raised his bandaged thumb. "It's nothin' to worry about. Dolphins packed a bite sometimes, so this is nothing."

"Honestly...I've seen this done so much. Animals are beings, no matter if they come from a test tube or not. Especially dinosaurs. InGen thruster them into a world where they have been extinct for millions of years. Least I can do is help them," Barry said.

"Can you be a raptor wrangler with me?" Owen blurted out. "A velociraptor pack is way too complex for just one parent. You got the qualifications as well, hell, even more so than me. I mean, it's okay if you don't want to, I totally understand. Cause it's like-a _lot_ to handle. Or wrangle. These are raptors and they are super inten-"

"Yes."

* * *

 **Word count is relatively low, this is just a filler chapter. I have the real stuff coming up, but I thought that this needed more world building and a bit of a break from all the angst. Just like Jurassic World. Barry doesn't have a last name to my knowledge so I gave him Moreau in honor of the hot mess that is Joker from Mass Effect. Thank you, drunk Joker, for introducing me to the lines "You landed on the island of doctor me!" and "It's JOKING time!" I did not know I needed them in my life. So thanks BioWare. Still mad about no Joker romance.**

 **Thank you for reading! I'm glad to be back at the grind!**


	10. The Lucky One

**An update? For my fic? It's more likely than you think.**

 **Also faceclaim for Tristan is Tyler Posey. That's it.**

 **Disclaimer is the same: enjoy!**

* * *

The Lucky One

* * *

2 hours after the Suchomimus attack

" _Be careful."_

 _And that smirk. That easygoing, confident, cocky smirk that was attractive and smug all at once. Pure Owen Grady. Like everything was going to be a piece of cake._

" _When am I not?"_

When am I not. When am I not.

When wasn't he careful? When wasn't he reckless?

The most Barry got from the Baryonyx was mud splashed onto shirt.

When it was a group of thirty people sent out to capture two escaped dinosaurs, there were multiple channels for the radio. For the Sector that Barry was assigned to, there was no possible way he could connect to Owen.

The Suchomimus' escape was unexpected and a much higher level than the Baryonyx. sent Barry's group to hide in the nearest building, which meant

Barry

"Where's Owen? I tried calling him and he wouldn't answer. He must have left his phone at home again."

Owen had that habit, his excuse being that he "went a long time without needing to use a phone. So why start that habit now?"

Outside the main building, Barry walked by a row of InGen vans and a team of paramedics attending the recruits. Some he didn't recognize, some he did and then he saw it: the rest of Owen's team. They were physically intact, and like Barry, only some mud on their boots and clothes. But the look on their faces…

Something terrible happened and they weren't in an okay enough state to talk about it.

Barry took a deep breath and pushed away the anxiety that came with not knowing if Owen survived or not.

 _O and Emil might just be inside, debriefing with headquarters about what happened._

Badge around his neck in a lanyard, his clearance level was evident to the guards as they nodded and let him in.

Now to look for Owen.

Barry got his answer before Vivian said it when he glanced at the Radio Tracker List, the blocked letters of DECEASED brighter than the park ID picture themselves.

Owen Grady was on the list.

So was Emil. So was Lionel. So was Kaidan. Tom. Henry. Raoul. Manny. Claudia.

Barry felt the wind get knocked out of him.

Owen was dead.

"I'm sorry, Barry."

It made sense as to why Vivian didn't want to talk to him on the radio. How could she break the news over a communication link that Owen was dead? That Owen and eight other people died?

For a moment, Barry lost his words. He wasn't sure what day it was anymore. He wasn't sure what to say. What to feel.

Deceased. Dead. Killed in action. Deceased. Dead. Dead.

Barry's hand went to his chest, almost as if to check if his heart was still beating. Tears were about to start forming, but then they suddenly stopped at the sound of guards barking orders for someone to stand down.

"Let me through, damn it!" Tristan burst through the doors of the Control Room, ignoring the protest of security guards that he wasn't allowed to be in the room.

The sudden intrusion snapped Barry back to reality.

The reality that OWen and his friends were dead.

"Vivian, tell me it's not true!" Tristan exclaimed.

He must have already heard.

"Tell me Owen isn't dead!"

"I'm sorry Tristan."

"Tell me Owen isn't fucking dead!"

Security guards began to approach him before Barry broke out of the physical shock and waved them away.

"He's with me," he said stoically. His mind was working on autopilot, not sure what to react aside from shock.

Owen was dead.

Before Barry could warn him, Tristan saw the screen, eyes landing on Owen's name.

"No," Tristan said to himself. "It can't be," he turned to Vivian. "Vivian...please, please tell me that's an error."

"RTL is always accurate," Vivian couldn't hide the tears anymore.

"Send us out there. Let us find something to bury," Barry said, not believing the words that were coming out his mouth.

Tristan turned to look at Barry, eyes wide.

"Please," Barry added.

He had to see it to believe it. Owen was Owen Grady, he couldn't die. Not like this. It's not possible.

Normally, InGen was sent to recover the bodies, if there was any left of the person that was. But protocol wasn't quite followed during times of crisis.

Barry knew that Vivian knew that.

"You might not find anything."

"The last thing we saw was hat the Sucho grabbed him," Vivian's voice grew tight.

"But can we at least try?"

Vivian hesitated, but loaded up her console and typed a new list that appeared on the screen.

BRU. Body Retrieval Unit.

She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and reprogrammed Barry's radio, adding his and Tristan's names to the list.

"Okay. I'm giving you both Emil and Owen's teams last known coordinates."

* * *

Present Day

Owen found out once more that waking up was difficult enough after a nightmare. It only got harder with the pain that his knee was going through when he tried to take a morning shower.

So the idea of leaving the bungalow was thrown out the window.

Tristan had arrived, golf cart parked right outside next to his motorcycle that was kindly dropped off by one of the crew members from the neighboring paddock.

 _Dear Owen,_

 _As of right now, you are on two weeks paid medical leave. You are not to report to the paddock or any work duties. Doctor's orders._

 _We hope you feel better._

 _Regards,_

 _Karen Hodge_

 _Schedule Coordinator_

"Great," Owen groaned, shutting his laptop lid.

"What is it?" Tristan asked, cooking the omelet in the almost travel sized frying pan. What can Owen say? He's a simple man.

"I'm grounded."

"Yeah," Tristan nodded. "I was waiting for you to find that email."

The email had do-not-reply in the sender line, therefore, every complaint or protests he had would be effectively sent straight to the trash can and a failed outbox message.

"The girls are doing okay, by the way. They miss you," Tristan said.

"I miss them too. Speaking of the girls," Owen turned slightly to face Tristan. "Why aren't you at the paddock? Don't you have some weeds to pull and smoke afterwards?"

The joke was more to lessen the tension that had been present since Tristan walked in. Something unspoken, a dreaded fact, hung in the air. Tristan wasn't saying anything, but his tense body language, plus his sudden desire to cook, said it all.

Tristan was hiding something.

Tristan rolled his eyes at the joke and flipped the slightly burnt omelet to the less burnt side. "Uh, first of all, I'm not the only gardener the paddock has to offer. Second of all, Rian is the pothead. Not me. And third of all, you really think I'm gonna leave you alone? After you nearly died? Hell no."

"But you left me alone last night."

"I had to take care of some things."

"Speaking of that," Owen remembered what his aunts had said to him about Tristan not saying anything to them. "Why didn't you call Jemma or Miriam?"

Tristan paused.

"Fuck," he said. "I didn't think you'd find that out."

Bingo.

"You have their numbers. Dude, they were worried sick. You should have let them know that something happened. At least that I was out of commission."

"I didn't know how to break the news to them."

"Hearing some bad news beats having four days of silence. They were worried about you too."

"God, I didn't want to be the one to tell you this."

"Tell me what?" Owen demanded.

Silence fell between the pair, Tristan running a hand through his hair. He sighed, muttering a curse under his breath. He turned off the stove, moving the finished omelet to the plate.

The crackle of the vegetable oil was slowly dindling down as Owen watched Tristan bring the plate to him and with a sigh, finally sitting down acrsso from him in the kitchen table.

 _What the hell is going on?_

"Okay. I didn't want to be the one to tell you this but….You…." Tristan took another deep breath. "Okay, you need to sit down for this."

"Tristan, I'm already sitting down," Owen motioned to his knee reclining on the stool, cushioned by a small pillow.

Owen braced himself for impact. He couldn't lose his cool around Tristan.

"You...you died during surgery."

Silence fell again.

"...What?" Owen asked. "What do you mean? There's no possible way."

Tristan nodded, throat tight as he failed to look at Owen in the eye, focused on the television in front of the coffee table.

"Yeah. You...you died."

.

.

.

 _Fuck_.

Owen let out a choked breath he didn't know he was holding. Mortified. He was alive. Alive after dying once.

"What was the reason?"

"Blood loss, maybe. You died during surgery for nearly ten seconds. They had to electroshock you back to life. You flatlined."

Owen died.

Owen died, then was brought back soon after.

"All I remember was passing out after…"

"After what?"

"I saw Emil die."

"What?"

"The Sucho sunk her claws in me and picked me up and Emil shot at her for her to let me go. And she did, but she ended up grabbing Emil instead and-"

"And tearing him in half," Tristan finished for him. "Yeah. I saw the body."

Owen's eyes widened in shock.

"I was with Barry when we went to look for you. Looking for something to bury. We found Emil first."

" _Tristan_."

"We thought you were dead. We all did," Tristan said.

Owen felt his heart break in multiple pieces. Even more than it already was.

"Barry and I kept holding on hope that you were alive. Kept holding on hope that the RTL list was wrong and everyone else survived. But you were the lucky one."

"I don't feel so lucky."

"Owen. Don't fucking say that to me. I held you in my arms and felt your dying breaths while we waited for the chopper to come. Do you have any idea of how much pain that brought?"

"Do you need me to hug you?"

"I need you to not die and scae us like that ever again," Tristan said sharply.

"I was terrified. I almost found you dead, and I couldn't handle the news of you dying then coming back well. So how the hell did you think I could have told Jem or Miri anything?" Tristan asked. "Explain that to me, Owen. Because I sure as hell can't explain it to you."

Nothing was going to be the same.

"What do we do?"

"I don't know."

"What's admin going to do about this?"

"Claire gave some bullshit press conference. They feel like empty promises," Tristan said. "And I get it, we can only do and promise so much when we have the world's most dangerous animals on a tiny island. But there's something fishy about the whole thing. An attack like that is not just unprovoked."

Fishy?

It was an animal attack, fair and square. Owen knew; he was attacked. There was nothing to overthink or underthink about the facts that two dinosaurs escaped and one of them was responsible for the death many people.

"What do you mean?" Owen asked.

"Rian knows more about this than I do, but..." Tristan trailed off.

"But what?"

"I think it might have been planned."

* * *

 **NOW HERE COMES THE PLOT. Short update, but we are getting somewhere, friends!**

 **Thank you for reading. Comments are always welcomed!**


	11. Off Script

**Short chapter, but important one nevertheless. Will come back and add more detail when I have the chance.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Off Script

* * *

10 Hours After the Attack

"Any update on Owen?" Claire asked.

"Owen's out of surgery. He's unconscious and safe," Zara said.

Claire didn't hide the sigh of relief.

"Do you know who is dead? A whole lot of people," Gavin handed the individual manila folders to Claire. "Nine, to be exact."

"Jesus Christ," Claire said under her breath. "Any word on Asrani?"

"He's on his way back from Dubai," Gavin said. "He should be arriving this afternoon."

"How are we dealing with press?"

"We've picked off ten helicopters already," Zara said. "It's escalating. There's dozens of unions already up in arms. Death threats have risen, so have people demanding we shut down. As for social media, #ShutDownJurassicWorld is trending a 950K tweets."

 _Who gives a shit about hashtags?_

"What are we looking with injuries?" Claire asked.

"Ranging from a couple scratches from to a missing arm."

Shit.

"Gavin, arrange for a press conference on the mainland today at two thirty."

"On it," the publicist left to do the duty he was assigned to do.

Zara and Claire walked in tense silence until they reached Claire's suite slash in home office.

Claire sighed and headed to her desk, before being redirected by Zara to her bed.

"No, no, no, you need to sit down," Zara pushed her down onto the bed in a sitting position. "Take a moment to breathe."

"I can't afford a moment to do that!" Claire stood up from her bed. "There's an on-site crisis and I need to take responsibility for it."

Again, Zara grabbed Claire by the wrists, the action making her freeze on the spot. "You need to relax. Honey, you have been running on no sleep and adrenaline," she said gently.

"I told you, Zara, I'm fine."

"Tell me, love; did you let the dinosaurs go?"

"No."

"Then take a moment to breathe. They located the survivors and are getting them to safety. So please, sit down. Take a moment to collect your thoughts. Breathe."

"I can't do that," Claire said. "Not right now. I need to practice."

"Are you sure about saying the last part? About covering the funerary expenses for the victims' families? Even if they request for it to be out of Costa Rica?"

Claire nodded. "It's the least we can do."

"Hoskins won't be happy," Zara said.

"Sometimes, you have to piss off the wrong people in order to do the right thing," Claire said. "God, I feel like shit for sending Owen out there."

"You didn't anticipate it would be this bad. No one did."

"No word from the investigation team on the paddock?"

"Not yet. Some are coming in the mainland first for debriefing, then coming here. For now, just rest," Zara stroked the side of Claire's tired, makeup free face. Claire caught her hand and kissed it briefly.

"Wake me up in a few hours," she said.

"I will," Zara squeezed her hand and stood up, leaving the room in silence.

Claire laid down on the bed.

And burst into tears.

She sobbed and sobbed, thankful that Zara left her alone.

She got reports of each casualty and how they died. Emiliano Franco, gentle giant caretaker, was torn in half. The four InGen guards in charge of the Suchomimus paddock were slaughtered by the eponymous dinosaur herself.

She was relieved Owen survived. His death, although temporal, shook her up way too bad. She trusted him. And that trust led him to almost die.

She wasn't sure how loud she was sobbing but no one came in. Zara certainly didn't. Which was good.

Her park suffered a tragedy. Nine people died from it.

Nine.

And she had to own up to it.

Zara's words were absent on her as Claire stood up. She got out of her bed, wiped her tears away and stood up to walk to her desk.

She had to pull it together. For the victims. And their families.

So she wiped her tears and sat up. She waited a few moments for the shakiness to pass until she was able to stand on her own two feet.

The manila folders with each individual injured or dead due to the attack were stacked on the desk. Her iPad had photographs sent from the investigations team surrounding the paddock. Along with footage and audio from the Control Room before the outage.

It wasn't fair that she had to sleep.

So she stayed awake and reviewed notes and reports and wrote what she had to say on a pair of notecards.

She didn't sleep a wink in the four hours before the press conference.

* * *

Claire got past the formalities of introducing herself and into the details of the park, omitting the names of the victims for the sake of privacy.

"This is a tragedy that breaks all of our hearts here at the park. Our hearts are with the victims and we will be covering every last funerary expense needed for the victims and their families. Including a six month pension."

Claire knew she was going off script. And she kept going anyway.

"We are looking into what caused the Suchomimus outbreak from the paddock and reviewing our security detail in terms of the network collapse and breach. Verizon Wireless is not at fault for what happened for the network crash, nor are they taking any questions into terms of what happened. I will now be taking any questions."

All hands in the room went up.

She chose the blonde woman in the first row, and waited for her response.

"This is the worst attack since Jurassic World's opening. With investors dropping, is the park shutting down permanently?"

"We have no intentions to close."

"Is it true that dinosaur trainers died in the attack?"

"We are not allowed to disclose the identities of the victims."

"What comes of the dinosaur that caused fatal injuries? Will it be euthanized?"

Claire knew the following statement would lead the press into an uproar. And that she would never heard the end of it.

"The Suchomimus will not be euthanized," she said crisply into the microphone.

The entire press room erupted into indignant shouts.

* * *

 **Okay, now that I have the press conference scene out of the way, the plot kicks in. Cue the Investigation arc!**

 **Thank you for reading, comments are welcomed!**


End file.
